Oathbound
by NikiFrost
Summary: In the magical kingdom of Valdemar, we follow the lives of Emma and Regina as they navigate the tumultuous world of Queens, Kings, and the machinations of enemy kingdoms, all while trying to survive long enough to admit they're idiots in love... Or, the one with princess!Emma, knight!Regina, and their magical talking horses trying to play matchmaker.
1. Prologue

**Swan Queen AU:** Set in the mystical "Heralds of Valdemar" series, in which we follow the lives of young Emma and Regina as they grow up together in the Collegium, train their unusual abilities, stumble their way through friendships and relationships, and navigate the tumultuous world of Queens, Kings, and the machinations of enemy kingdoms, all while trying to survive long enough to admit they're idiots in love.

Or, the one where Bug canters around after Mercy like a lovestruck colt and pesters Emma about wooing Mercy's rider, Regina.

* * *

Shout-out to my lovely friends and cheerleaders - Chelsey, Sami, and Apples_a_day - for reading through my rough drafts and giving me inspiration and moral support, as well as a big thank-you to SpeedRacer for the amazing matching artwork for this Supernova Challenge! (You can check out their art over at AO3 by searching their username "SpeedRacer"!)

* * *

I've been slowly rereading the Arrows of the Queen trilogy and thought this would be an awesome AU for Emma and Regina. Some story elements and lore have been changed or removed to make this as simple and non-confusing as possible for new readers, but a quick rundown of the basics you need to know for this world:

 **Valdemar:** A kingdom, with Haven as its capital city, always ruled by a Queen. The Royal Palace and the Collegium are located atop a hill in the center of Haven.

 **Heralds:** The peacekeepers of Valdemar, every Herald is paired up with a Companion. As young trainees, they attend classes in the Collegium. Upon graduation, they become full Heralds and patrol the kingdom on circuits.

 **Companions:** Guardian spirits born in the form of silvery white horses with wise blue eyes. They can sense when children are born with Gifts, and when the child is old enough, each Companion Chooses one to be their Herald and brings them to the Collegium for training. They communicate telepathically.

 **Gifts:** Psychic abilities that some people are born with, which makes them candidates as Herald trainees. A Companion Chooses them and brings them home to the Collegium to begin their schooling and training.

*Telepathic dialogue is in italics and is bookended by colons. Heralds and Companions all have the ability to speak telepathically amongst themselves.

 _::Two colons are used when Companions speak telepathically.::_

 _:Single colons are used when Heralds are speaking telepathically.:_

* * *

 **Prologue**

"You hated me in the beginning."

"I did not hate you!"

"You wouldn't even look at me!" Emma laughs, pulling away when Regina swats at her shoulder. They're laid out side by side on a heraldic blue blanket, dressed in their simple summer white sleeveless tunics and breeches, enjoying the afternoon sunshine after a particularly long day of teaching classes. Henry, their rambunctious six year old, frolics around in the grass nearby with little giggles of laughter, playing with some of the young white foals that had been born that very season.

"Bug, she hated me in the beginning, right?" she asks, turning her head to look towards the mass of gleaming white just a short distance away. Two heads lift into the air where their Companions, Mercy and Bug, lay snuggled up on the grass, the mare looking amused while the stallion snorts in her direction.

:: _She did not hate you in the beginning, Chosen,_ :: the stallion's warm voice floats into her mind.

:: _I believe her first thoughts were that you were 'awkward but cute,'_ :: the mare supplies helpfully, her voice entering both their minds, to which Regina props herself up on her elbows to glare at the female.

"You're such a traitor, Mercy," she complains, getting nothing more than a whicker of laughter from the mare. Companions generally only speak to their own Herald, but Mercy likes to break the rules every so often and communicate telepathically with the blonde to ruffle Regina's feathers.

:: _You were young and in love without even knowing it,_ :: Mercy sniffs, amused, as she stretches out a little and rests her long neck over Bug's flank again, her belly heaving softly with a contented sigh, round with foal. The stallion lips affectionately at her mane and winks an eye at his blonde rider.

:: _We've certainly come a long way, haven't we, dearheart?_ :: he murmurs softly. Emma smiles and projects a wave of love in his direction as Regina huffs dramatically and burrows into her side, head resting nestled against Emma's chest. Her wife acts disgruntled and grumpy but, much to Emma's unending amusement, she is almost always the instigator of affection and body contact.

"Mama! Mommy!" There's a booted foot stepping uncomfortably on her bladder for a moment before Henry shoves his tiny body between his mothers and snuggles right in with a contented sigh. With an arm around her wife and her son, Emma grins over at Bug.

: _That we have, Bug. That we have._ :


	2. Part 1

**Part 1**

 _Twenty years ago_

Bug is barely a full grown stallion when he first appears in the Fields one day, much to the surprise of the other Companions. Unlike them, he is not naturally born. Unlike them, he simply appeared from within the Sacred Grove, making him a rare Grove-born. There's only ever been one Grove-born by the name of Rolan—and Bug's appearance suddenly makes it two.

It's a tricky thing, because unlike normal Companions that pair up with normal Heralds, the immortal Grove-born always pairs up with the Queen's Own: the most trusted Herald who acts as a second in command to the Queen. And it's a trickier thing because Queen Snow already has a Queen's Own, a kind and loyal Herald called David who is Rolan's current partner, and so no one knows why Bug has suddenly appeared from the Grove. Even Rolan had looked startled when Bug first appeared.

Bug is spry with youth, gangly as if he hasn't quite grown into himself yet, and Rolan takes him under his wing without complaint.

:: _Your existence baffles me,_ :: Rolan says when he first greets the younger Companion, the two stallions standing in the middle of the field while the rest of the snowy white Companions mill around them, ears pricked and blue eyes wide with curiosity.

:: _My existence baffles myself,_ :: the younger stallion replies in amusement.

:: _Come, meet my Herald._ :: Rolan takes him to meet David out by the stables, where Queen Snow also stands with her mare Blanche. Both Queen and Queen's Own gawk at him like he is an utter mystery that they just can't wrap their heads around.

:: _Snow, you'll catch flies like that,_ :: Blanche teases, nudging the Queen with her nose. Regaining some sense of dignity, Snow shakes her head and turns a worrisome gaze on David.

"What could this mean?"

"I've no idea," David says with an easy shrug. "Perhaps destiny senses something is to come for Rolan and I."

Snow slaps him across the shoulder, appalled at the very thought that something might happen to her beloved. "Don't speak like that!"

"It has always been a possibility, Snow," he says softly, rubbing at the offended limb. "You know that the Fates intervene when necessary. If Bug has been brought into existence, then it means he is here to Choose the next Queen's Own."

:: _I think not,_ :: Rolan says, huffing at his Herald. David sets a hand on the stallion's neck, tilting his head at him in question. :: _If Bug and his future Herald are to become the next Queen's Own, then that must mean we both die before our time, and you and I both know we are too stubborn for that._ ::

And then, with a hint of levity in his voice, he adds, :: _Besides, I am immortal. Unlike you, I am above death._ ::

And because David has always had a good sense of humor about him, he just laughs, which only aggravates Snow more as she cannot hear Rolan's side of the conversation. She gives Rolan a withering look and the Companion has the good sense to dip his head as if blushing.

:: _There are exceptions. The Fates always have a reason for intervening. Surely a new Grove-born is meant to be paired with a future Herald of great importance. Perhaps you are expecting a child?_ ::

David pales at that, smile dropping off his face as he looks to Snow. It's not uncommon for a Queen and her Own to be in a romantic relationship and to have children as well, but their history is trickier than that.

"What? What did he say?" Snow demands, looking nearly as white as her Companion. Blanche instinctively steps closer to the Queen, letting the short woman lean against her flank for support.

:: _Snow, darling,_ :: Blanche begins, her voice a soft reassurance in Snow's mind, but David speaks up and takes over for her.

"Rolan thinks that Bug may be here for a child of ours."

Snow's hands move to her flat stomach by reflex, a stomach that hasn't held a child in over a decade now. She knows she is not pregnant, and even if she were, surely Bug wouldn't have appeared before the child was even born.

"Then—"

"Emma," David says brokenly, Rolan stepping up to let the man sag backwards against his chest. "She— she's alive?"

Both humans look towards Bug, who has thus far stood there in awkward silence. Tossing his forelock out of his eyes, he shuffles his hooves and suddenly finds a leaf on the ground to be very fascinating.

:: _You are here to Choose their daughter?_ :: Blanche demands of him, sharing in the Queen's heartbreak and feeling her protectiveness surge forwards.

:: _He must be. If she is alive, she would be nearly twelve now,_ :: Rolan interjects, his blue eyes sharp and alert. :: _You are here for her, aren't you? Do you feel the Call?_ ::

Bug, for his part, looks embarrassed. He's been born with all the knowledge he requires and as far as he can tell, he does not feel the Call, the inborn _feeling_ that is supposed to lead him to his destined Herald-in-training. :: _I do not. I'm sorry._ ::

Rolan and Blanche relay his words to Snow and David, both of whom excuse themselves moments later with suspiciously wet eyes, disappearing back into the castle wing in which their private chambers are located.

:: _I'm sorry,_ :: Bug says again, meek. Blanche huffs through her nostrils and trots off, tail lashing irritably, while Rolan pins him with a sympathetic look.

:: _Come,_ :: the older Grove-born says with a sigh. :: _Regardless of why you are here, you have much to learn if you are to Choose someone the Fates deem important._ ::

He trots off with a toss of his head and Bug follows, silently asking the Fates why he is here and whether or not he truly has a purpose.

* * *

Three months later, three months of sullenly running the courses without a rider and avoiding the Queen and David like an animal with its tail tucked between its legs, he finally feels the Call. It's like an itch in his hide, a tremor at the base of his mane, a fire under his hooves. It happens in the middle of the night and he's too anxious and excited to alert Rolan or Blanche, afraid that he might give them false hope if he comes back with the wrong Chosen. Thus he awakens the stablehand on duty in silence, nudging the boy where he dozes on a stool by the barn doors until he sleepily gears him up.

Equipped in the decorated gear given to all Companions who make their first journey to find their Heralds—with the royal blue saddle lined with small, tinkling bells and the bitless bridle—Bug creeps his way out of the Companions Field, his steps slow and measured as he makes it to the reinforced walls that surround the Collegium. The guard on duty nods politely as he passes, long used to rider-less Companions leaving at the most random times. Away from the Collegium walls, Bug dashes off with a toss of his mane.

Haven, the capital city surrounding the Collegium and the Royal Palace, has become accustomed to the sight of the majestic Companions going about on their business, with or without a Herald on their backs. They're loved and adored as the valiant protectors of Valdemar, and thus every time someone hears the chime of their silvery hooves on the flagstone, they always come round to smile, wave, or offer treats to the Companions. It may be the middle of the night but windows still pop open as Bug makes his way instinctively along the winding roads of the city, faces appearing to smile and wave down at him or to call out their congratulations that he's on his way to track down his Chosen. A few stragglers still out and about on the streets at this hour dig into their pockets to offer him an apple or a few sugar cubes, treats that he skids to a stop to gleefully accept.

By the time he's reached the last gate of the city, he's feeling energetic and wide awake, whickering excitedly as the guards on duty there wave him off with well wishes. The kingdom of Valdemar is generally quite safe this close to Haven, especially during a time of peace, and so he speeds off into the night without an ounce of care, his bells chiming and the wind tugging at his mane. His Chosen is not far but not close either, perhaps a few days away if he rides without much rest, not a difficult feat for one as young and spry as he.

Tossing his head once more, Bug eats up the distance with joy.

* * *

Emma is a gangly and awkward thing, newly twelve years old and with a stubbornness that could rival a bull's. So it's because of her fiercely stubborn nature that Bug finds her, five days later, hanging perilously from a tree branch almost ten feet off the ground in a tiny and almost non-existent fishing village at the edge of Valdemar.

 _What in the world?_ He thinks to himself, ears splayed sideways as he regards her from where he stands hidden in thick foliage, the brightness of his white coat muffled from the sun. Emma is struggling to right herself, but her attempts to secure her place in the tree is for naught when a dark haired, scruffy young man storms out of a shack nearby and pinpoints her location thanks to the falling leaves.

"Get down here, you ungrateful rat!" he shouts, face pinched with a sneer. Emma puffs her cheeks and says nothing, clinging onto the branch for dear life even as the man begins kicking at the tree. Another man, no kinder-faced than the first but balder and much larger around the middle, emerges from the shack and joins in the shouting, propelling his foot into the trunk of the tree. With their combined strength, they shake the tree hard enough that Emma loses her grip and falls, colliding hard on the ground with a cry of pain.

"That's what you damned well get for shirking your duties," the scruffy man sneers, hauling her up by the back of her muslin tunic. The fabric is thick but coarse and she grimaces in discomfort as it rubs against her newest bruises.

"Get back to work," the portly one scowls, "the fish ain't gonna scale itself!"

"I don't want any more fish for supper," Emma cries, her arms wrapping around her gut and her expression scrunching as the scruffy man yanks at her ear. "It makes my stomach hurt—"

"Then go hungry tonight," he snarks. "But you're still making the damn fish for us."

"But—"

"The gall of this one," the scruffy man says to the portly one, his lips curled into something ugly and mean. "We take her in, put a roof over her head and food in her belly, and all she does is complain."

"Ungrateful," the portly one scoffs. "And disrespectful. No wonder her kin abandoned her in the woods. Not even good enough to be left at a temple. You would've been food for the wolves if not for us, orphan."

"I'm not an orphan," Emma mutters, but her eyes drop to the ground and her lips press together with grim acceptance, and from his hiding place, Bug's heart aches with sympathy.

"You keep telling yourself that," the scruffy one says, leaning in low to sneer at her, his foul breath bringing a grimace to her face. "Doesn't change the fact that they left you to the wolves. A useless, unwanted little orphan."

Emma's jaw tightens, her eyes piercing.

And then she punches him in the face.

The man reels back with a shout of surprise, a hand flying to his nose to staunch the sudden spurt of blood. The portly one reaches for Emma and Bug launches forward without thought, his hooves stampeding onto the dirt loudly enough that they all look up at him moments before he's upon them like a demon out of hell.

They scream, stumbling backwards out of the way as he kicks his forelegs in their direction. As soon as he lands, he grabs the back of Emma's tunic with his teeth and lifts her easily from the ground, bolting away before either of the men can make a grab for his tack. Emma shouts and flails but he holds firm, paying close attention to the thick muslin fabric in his mouth, ready to slow and stop should it tear. Thankfully it does no such thing and they're safe enough away for him to finally slow and gently deposit the girl on the ground. They're at a crossroads on a dirt path leading away from the fishing village and Emma finds her footing to whirl on him, face flushed.

"What are you doing?" she demands, huffing and puffing. Bug shuts her right up by nudging her in the chest with his nose, leveling their gazes so that his otherworldly blue eyes meet her big green ones. With that direct eye contact, their bond is forged, the spiritual connection of Herald and Companion. Showering her with a rush of playfulness and unconditional love, Bug's voice enters her mind, boyish and friendly and affectionate.

:: _Hello, Chosen. My name is Bug, and I Choose you._ ::

She gapes, mouth opening and closing several times before pushing his face away with gentle hands and looking away, back towards the village, uncertain.

"You're a Companion," the girl finally says, weary. Hearing his voice in her mind is strange, but not unpleasant.

:: _You know about us?_ ::

"They tell me stories," Emma mumbles, shifting uncomfortably. He knows 'they' must be those two men from the shack. "They say Companions are hellbeasts that scour the land and steal children for the Queen's army."

:: _That is not true!_ :: Bug replies, indignant. :: _We Choose younglings who have a Gift, who have the potential to be protectors. It's up to them if they want to join the Heralds or not, just as it's up to you._ ::

Of course, as soon as he says it, he wishes he could take it back. When their bond was made, he knew exactly who she was. This is indeed Emma, the Queen and David's long lost daughter. Where most Companions did respect the wishes of their Chosen and would leave them if told, Bug is not sure he should offer the same courtesy. Surely he must bring the young princess home to her parents, especially since she does not belong with those two horrid men.

"They'll punish me if I run away," Emma mutters, fiddling with her fingers nervously despite the little flash of bitter anger in her eyes. There are both old and new bruises adoring her scrawny limbs and a multitude of little scratches and scars, silvery lines marring her fair skin. Bug says nothing of them, but his heart aches for the life she has had to live.

:: _You don't belong here, dearheart,_ :: Bug says gently. :: _We'll go somewhere they'll never find us. I will protect you from now on. Come home with me to Haven. Please?_ ::

Again, that frustration flickers in her eyes, the longing evident as she takes stock of his beautiful tack and the expensive little bells attached to his saddle. He is luxury and wealth, a promise of a better life, and her fear of her guardians wavers at the temptation Bug offers.

"I would be a Herald?" she finally asks, mulling over his previous words. He nuzzles her chest again, snuffling at her shirt as her little hands stroke his cheeks.

:: _You will be a trainee, and you'll get to live in the Collegium from now on until you are ready to be a Herald, yes._ :: She will be a princess, too, daughter of Queen Snow, but he knows better than to overwhelm her with that knowledge. He will let the Queen and David deal with that when they return, and he'll be there to support his Chosen through that ordeal, however it may happen.

Emma's stomach rumbles fiercely at that point, causing a blush to rise to her cheeks and ears. Bug's voice seems to chuckle in her mind.

:: _Jump astride, dearheart, and I'll take us to the nearest inn on the way back. How does a hot meal and a warm bath sound?_ ::

* * *

They stop at an inn a few hours later that day, Emma shuffling stiffly into the building after nearly collapsing off of Bug. She's never ridden before and does little better than sit like a sack of potatoes in his saddle, but she'll learn eventually, as every Herald rides their Companion into battle at some point in their life. Even if this is his first life, Bug knows that much.

He manages to shove his head into the front door, just long enough for the innkeeper to register their arrival and take charge of his scrawny, underfed Chosen. Bug lets himself into the little stables next to the inn while the matronly innkeeper sits Emma down at a table in the back and leaves her with a giant bowl of hot soup, a few slices of fresh bread, and a thick cut of cheese. Once she's eaten, she's dumped into a hot bath and scrubbed down raw until her natural skin color is uncovered beneath the layers of dirt and grime. Given a fresh change of clothes and a warm cloak, she's soon ushered back outside and given a little bronze chit.

"Ma'am?" Emma asks uncertainly, clutching the piece of engraved metal in her hand.

"You hold onto that and make sure you give it to a Herald once you're in the capital," the woman says as she just about tosses Emma up into the saddle, the girl grimacing at the soreness of her legs but saying nothing of it. She ties a sack to Bug's saddlebag and gives the Companion's rump a friendly pat, waving them off shortly thereafter.

"What's this for?" Emma asks, tucking the bronze chit away safely.

:: _It's proof that their establishment took care of a Herald or trainee,_ :: says Bug, trotting along the road at an easy pace. :: _They offer food and shelter to us, and in return, they get deductions come tax time. Oh, and I believe she put apples in that bag, so please dig one out for me later?_ ::

"Oh. Alright." Emma blinks, knowing nothing about tax time, or anything even remotely kingdom-related. Bug spends the rest of the afternoon telling her things about the outside world that she has never seen, and that night they rest at a Waystation, Bug giving Emma instructions as to where she can find tinder to start a small fire in the firepit within the shack.

"How many Waystations are there?" she asks as she huddles closer to the flames. The door stands propped open by a log and Bug stands just in the doorway, enjoying the warmth and keeping out the cold of the night with his bulk.

:: _Many, all over Valdemar. They're resting zones for any and all traveling Heralds and their Companions._ ::

"How are they always stocked?" she questions, nibbling away at some preserved jerky she'd found in a rations bin in the corner. Bug whickers in amusement.

:: _Nearby villagers are contracted to replenish Waystations for us. On that note, would you carry that bucket of grain over here for me?_ ::

The night passes quietly and they're on the road bright and early the next morning, making decent time, even if the trip back is taking longer than when Bug had outright galloped most of the way to Emma. Companions have immense strength and stamina, many times more than a normal horse, but he knows better than to gallop with an untrained rider on his back. They stop at two more inns and several more Waystations on their journey, and on their last evening before reaching the capital city, Bug senses another of his kind nearby.

:: _Oh! Look! Another Companion—and it's Mercy! She has a new Chosen with her as well. Let's travel together!_ ::

Emma has no real say in the matter because Bug is already cantering ahead to meet up at the next crossroads with the female Companion in the distance. He calls out in his Mindvoice the way all Companions do, and the mare's ears prick in their direction.

:: _Greetings! Hello, Mercy!_ ::

:: _Bug? Hello._ :: The mare slows to a stop as Bug nearly prances up to them like an excited colt. She is older than Bug, lithe and elegant as most Companions are. Riding easily in her saddle is a young girl, perhaps one or two years older than Emma, her dark hair pulled back in a long braid and her brown eyes cautious but curious. Unlike Emma in her rough tunic and worn clothes, the girl wears a soft blue riding coat and tan breeches, her long legs encased in leather. What's most telling is the warm olive shade of her skin, different from the tan of someone who simply works under the sun often.

:: _You've Chosen as well,_ :: Bug notes happily, tilting his head at the foreign girl as Mercy nods. He recognizes that she is likely from another kingdom, perhaps even one that has not always been a neutral ally of Valdemar, but says nothing of it. :: _We are another day away from Haven. Shall we travel together?_ ::

:: _Of course._ :: Mercy's blue eyes land on Emma, pausing in thought. :: _This must be the Queen's long lost daughter I've been hearing about._ ::

:: _She is, but I don't wish to overwhelm her with that knowledge just yet,_ :: Bug says, to which Mercy nods in understanding. Then, directing his thoughts to Emma, :: _Emma, dearheart, this is Mercy._ ::

"Hullo, Mercy," Emma mumbles at the mare, casting shy glances at the brunette girl who continues to stare blankly ahead.

:: _Hello, little one,_ :: Mercy coos at the tiny blonde, getting a startled look from her. Companions don't usually speak telepathically to a human other than their own Chosen, but Mercy thinks that a motherly voice might soothe the anxious girl right now, and thus allows her thoughts to drift to the blonde. :: _This is my Chosen, Regina. Perhaps you two will be friends at the Collegium._ ::

The brunette, Regina, must have also received the Companion's thoughts, because she startles slightly and narrows her eyes at Emma's downturned head.

:: _Regina, darling, this is Emma and her Companion Bug. She is newly Chosen, just like you._ ::

: _I see,_ : Regina thinks back to Mercy, having taken easily to their telepathic bond. Out loud, and with a crispness to her voice, she says, "Good evening, Emma, Bug."

"Hullo," Emma squeaks, looking up shyly only to find that Regina has already turned her head away with a sniff.

:: _We'll be traveling together the rest of the way to Haven,_ :: Mercy informs her, and if Regina has any complaints, she keeps them to herself. Emma, for her part, sits in silence as the Companions begin walking side by side down the empty road, keeping her eyes on the scenery rather than the brunette.

: _Bug?_ : she thinks experimentally, wondering if he might hear her thoughts like she can hear his. His head dips and his ears flatten down, a snort escaping his nostrils.

:: _Not so loud,_ :: he complains, turning his head to squint at her through an eye. :: _Relax your thoughts, Emma. I can hear you just fine. No need to shout into my mind._ ::

: _Sorry,_ : she tries, imagining a whisper.

:: _Much better. What is bothering you?_ ::

: _I don't think Regina likes me much._ :

:: _She doesn't know you, that's all. Besides, she is newly Chosen as well, perhaps she is nervous. Why don't you say hello?_ ::

: _I already said hullo. She didn't even look at me,_ :: Emma points out, petulant.

:: _Try to be friendly, Chosen,_ :: he says, and Emma is sure she can hear amusement in his voice. :: _We'll be traveling together the remainder of the way to Haven._ ::

* * *

They end up camping at another Waystation that evening once the sun goes down, the girls taking turns brushing down their Companions after unsaddling them and then starting up a fire and helping themselves to some rations from the station's supply. Bug rolls around in the grass as Mercy watches him in mild amusement, standing regal and dainty next to the shack.

: _Her Companion is a child,_ : Regina thinks dryly. Mercy whickers at her from near the door.

:: _Emma's Companion is a Grove-born, darling. That makes her a future Queen's Own._ ::

Regina looks over skeptically at where Emma sits curled up on the other side of the fire, gnawing on a piece of dried jerky. Emma doesn't look back, staring too intently into the flames to notice the brunette's dark gaze from the other side of the room.

: _Her?_ : Regina repeats, wrinkling her nose. : _She's scrawny and awkward._ :

Mercy smacks her lips together as if trying to cluck her tongue at her. :: _She won't be when she grows up, just as you will be very different when you are older. Give her a chance, Chosen. She is very nervous, and you would do well to remember that she may one day be the one protecting your backside in a battle._ ::

Regina sighs in annoyance, glaring across the firepit to see the blonde shivering briefly. Getting up and retrieving a fur blanket from one of the bins, she throws it over the younger girl's skinny form, getting a startled look in return.

"Thanks," Emma mumbles, as Regina sits down to her left instead of on the other side of the fire pit this time.

"Heralds take care of each other," Regina mutters, the flames adding orange and gold shimmers to her deep brown eyes. Trying for some kind of conversation starter, she says, "Where are you from?"

"Fishing village near the Hardorn border… You?"

"Karse." Emma doesn't recognize the name of the kingdom that remains neutral only after losing the war against Valdemar just a few decades ago, and Regina lets loose the shaky breath she had been holding, expecting a look of suspicion and getting none.

They fall quiet again. Emma sticks out her arms towards the flames to warm her fingers a little more and Regina's gaze falls on the various little scars on her arms and hands. There's a dark bruise on her forearm too, one that looks only days old.

"Were your parents alright with you leaving to join the Heralds?" she asks, unspoken questions hidden within the one. Emma's fingers curl into fists; she's not stupid, she knows what Regina is doing.

"Don't have any," she mutters nonetheless, bitterness seeping into her voice. "They left me to the wolves when I was a baby. The men who took me in treated me like a servant."

Outside the shack, Bug listens in sullen silence, Mercy sharing a sympathetic look with him. He wants to tell her the truth, to explain to her how she was stolen, but he knows it is not his story to tell.

"I'm sorry," Regina says, shocked by the revelation. After a moment, she rolls up her sleeve and lifts her forearm up to the firelight, where a long scar runs from wrist to elbow. The only form of comfort she knows is sharing battle scars. "I got this as punishment from my own mother."

"What did you do?"

"I dropped one of her expensive plates."

Emma shuffles a little closer to the fire, closer to Regina. "I'm sorry." Then, after another minute of silence, she says, "Did she give you that scar on your lip too?"

Regina's lips twitch. "A ring on her finger when she hit me."

"Are you happy you left them?"

"In a way… yes."

Finally turning her head, Regina notices Emma still staring at her, or rather at the deep indent of a scar on her upper lip. Caught, Emma's eyes flicker up, bright greens tinged gold with the fire. They settle on the warm brown of Regina's steady gaze and something just clicks, like a lock unlatching within their hearts, like stumbling upon the other half of your soul that you weren't even aware was missing until you found them.

"Hullo," Emma says, dumbly.

"Hello," Regina mutters back, brows knit together. Bewildered and flustered, she jumps to her feet to retrieve more furs and blankets from the bins, throwing them down into the two available bed boxes. When Emma gives her a baffled look, she mumbles something about getting some sleep since they'll have an early morning. Just nodding along, Emma crawls into one of the bed boxes and settles in, mumbling a 'goodnight' which is quietly returned.

Outside the shack, Mercy whickers softly at the stallion. :: _Did you feel that?_ ::

:: _I did. What was it?_ ::

:: _A Lifebond._ ::

Bug blinks in surprise. :: _Oh. So that's what it feels like._ ::

:: _Indeed. I'm surprised. Lifebonds don't happen very often._ ::

:: _Should we tell them?_ ::

:: _They're younglings, Bug,_ :: she says, almost rolling her eyes at him. :: _They will be busy enough with schooling and training and growing into themselves, they don't need more on their plates. Besides, it is not our place to tell them that they've met their Lifebond. They need to realize it on their own._ ::

:: _Oh._ :: Bug chuffs and twitches his ears. :: _But might we give them a hint when they are older?_ ::

:: _Perhaps,_ :: Mercy relents, and says no more.

* * *

Regina is silent the next day and Emma retreats into herself the closer they get to the capital. Haven is noisy and bustling when they arrive at the edge of the massive city that afternoon, beginning their trek along the winding roads that take them through many districts of the city. When Emma asks Bug about the confusing path at some point, he tells her that the roads were designed like that so that if they were ever attacked by enemy forces, the enemy would not have a direct path to the Royal Palace.

They are constantly greeted on all sides as they travel through the city, receiving smiles and waves and congratulations, their Companions receiving treats and looks of awe. Or rather, Emma receives the friendly attention. Regina is stared at with wide eyes and the occasional look of suspicion.

: _Why do they stare at Regina like that?_ : Emma asks, even as she tries to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible in the saddle. (An impossible feat because Bug and Mercy look absolutely brilliant and shine a bright white in the sunshine as they strut their way through the city, but Emma tries nonetheless.)

:: _Some people still harbor old feelings of hate for Karse, which was once an enemy kingdom from a war long past. The Karsites are a darker people, and thus they know where she hails from._ ::

: _That's not fair,_ : Emma thinks, frowning. : _She is not much older than me. She had nothing to do with the war. How could they hate her?_ :

:: _Human nature is a tricky thing, dearheart,_ :: he says simply.

As much as they'd all hoped to arrive at the Collegium without drama, one aristocrat from the wealthier residential districts feels the need to say something, making Mercy halt quite abruptly.

"How could you choose a Karsite?" the man spits, quite literally spitting at the ground by Mercy's hooves. "How do you trust one of the enemy within Herald ranks?"

:: _Ignore him, darling,_ :: Mercy tells Regina at the same time as she flattens her ears and stomps a hoof warningly in the man's direction. Regina just squeezes her Companion's sides with her legs, anxious to keep moving and get away. The man trails after them down the street, hurling insults, and Emma sees red.

"Leave her alone!" she snarls, just as shocked by her own outburst of protective anger as the others are. Bug actually moves himself between the man and Mercy and slams his hooves down on the cobblestone, chest heaving and puffing air from his nostrils as he stares the man down, Emma sitting tall astride him with her blonde hair glowing in the sun. Sputtering in indignation, the man flushes and storms away. Bug bumps his nose against Mercy's neck and coaxes them forward as Emma stares straight ahead, her ears burning. The many other citizens walking the streets had seen the quarrel and start whispering to each other under their breaths as the Companions and their Chosen amble along.

"I don't need you to defend me," Regina snaps, angry and embarrassed. Emma's head jerks up and she matches the brunette's glare with one of her own.

"Yes, well, I wasn't defending you, that man was just annoying me," she lies through gritted teeth. Both girls scowl and promptly ignore each other for the remainder of the trip.

* * *

:: _Here we are. Welcome home, Chosen,_ :: Bug and Mercy both say to their respective riders, the entrance gate of the Collegium looming over them as they pass through and into the massive expanse within. It's quieter here, more peaceful than the bustling city outside, the fields lush and green, many buildings spread out with the Royal Palace visible farther back behind the Collegium's buildings.

They don't get much further before Rolan intercepts them.

:: _Bug,_ :: the older stallion says, disapproval clear in his tone. Bug lowers his head in deference, and though Mercy had intended on taking Regina straight to the stables to begin her orientation, she lingers just a few paces from them. She's gotten fond of her Chosen's Lifebond (regardless of neither girls being aware of their bond) and wants to make sure Emma is alright.

:: _I wanted to be sure it was her,_ :: Bug offers, ears twitching.

:: _And is it?_ ::

:: _It is. This is their Emma._ ::

Rolan goes still, his blue eyes pinning Emma in place as the blonde shrinks down in her saddle.

: _Why is that one staring at me? What's going on?_ : she asks of her Companion, who says nothing and only sends her a little wave of love and reassurance. As he'd expected, David and Queen Snow come rushing out from the palace just a moment later at Rolan's call, almost sprinting their way towards them near the main entryway. From the direction of the stables, Blanche hurries towards them, just as excited as her Chosen.

"Rolan!" David shouts, skidding to a stop next to his Companion and setting a hand on the stallion's flank for comfort. Snow stands at his side, their fingers interlocked, her other hand on Blanche's neck. Neither of them say a word for a moment, their brows furrowed, silently speaking with their respective Companions. Bug can feel Emma's anxiety rocketing through the roof and tries his best to calm her.

"Emma?" Snow is finally the first to break the silence, the girl's name soft and hesitant on her lips, almost reverent. Emma stiffens and stares wide-eyed at the woman. She knows nothing of the kingdom and thus has no idea she is staring down at the Queen of Valdemar, but she is anxious and nervous regardless, already feeling like an outsider where she doesn't belong.

:: _Won't you say hello?_ :: Bug coaxes.

Reluctantly, Emma says, "Hullo."

"Oh, sweetheart." Snow's eyes glaze over with tears, as does David's, though he is the one who steps up to Bug's side and gestures to help her down, a soft smile on his gentle face. Something about the tears in their eyes, the looks of longing and guilt, sets Emma on alert. There's something they're not saying, something important, and she immediately jerks away from David's touch, clinging to Bug's saddle until her knuckles turn white.

"No!" she says, cringing away when David tries to lift her off the saddle. He quickly backs up even as Bug shifts away from him, hands held up in surrender, but there's a look of hurt in his eyes from her rejection that is too deep, too personal. "What's going on?"

Snow and David exchange a look, a silent conversation, and Emma's walls go up even higher.

"There is a lot we must tell you, but why don't we get you and your Bug settled down first?" David offers, his voice warm and inviting.

"Supper will be served soon," Snow adds, blinking away the tears in her eyes to smile reassuringly. "Are you hungry?"

Regina and Mercy watch this all from a short distance away, both still as statues and just as silent. Regina feels a rush of bitterness at how the pretty blonde girl gets the pampered welcome, from the Queen of Valdemar no less, but Mercy is quick to dispel her misunderstanding.

:: _They are not discriminating against you, darling. Emma is their long-lost daughter._ ::

: _Their daughter?_ : Regina stiffens up in the saddle, now angry for a whole other reason. : _They abandoned her!_ :

:: _It is a long story, Chosen, and not one that is any of our business to gossip about._ ::

Atop Bug, Emma continues to stare anxiously at the two people smiling softly at her, their eyes still suspiciously wet. Bug murmurs reassurances in her mind, but even his soothing tones do not placate her.

"Tell me the truth," she demands, her voice tight with something close to fear. She can see it, words on the tips of their tongues, something they are desperate to say and yet also afraid to vocalize. A part of her is afraid to hear it.

Snow takes in a deep breath before stepping a little closer. "We're your parents, Emma."

Emma has no real response. She just blinks, staring wide-eyed at them, the cogs in her head turning desperately in an attempt to understand what it is she's just been told. When she has no immediate reaction, Snow and David continue speaking, desperate to explain.

"They stole you—"

"We gave chase but Rolan was injured and your mother was—"

"I did everything I could, sent out every Herald we had—"

"We thought you were dead—"

"Stop it," Emma whispers, shrinking back in her saddle, Bug shifting uncomfortably beneath her. When Snow reaches out a hand for her, Emma visibly jerks away, something dark and desperate flashing in her wide green eyes. "Stop it!"

Bug pulls back with an anxious toss of his head, hooves stamping the ground hard. Rolan and Blanche both shift forward to box the young stallion in between them even as David's brow furrows with concentration.

:: _Control yourself, brother,_ :: Rolan demands, pinning Bug with a stare. :: _Ground yourself before her emotions overrule your own._ ::

:: _She is an Empath,_ :: Blanche realizes, ears pricked forward. :: _A powerful one at that. Of course she is; both her parents have Empathy._ ::

:: _David, you must calm her,_ :: Rolan says, watching his Chosen's face pinch as he tries to overpower Emma's Empathy with his own.

:: _Emma,_ :: Bug thinks desperately, blinking away the fog of fear and despair in his mind, aware that the emotions are not his own but Emma's. :: _Emma, you need to calm yourself, please._ ::

: _They lost me. They gave up. They threw me away. They didn't want me._ : The thoughts bounce violently within Emma's mind, each repetition only upsetting her further, the pain and bitterness rising in her chest and blurring her eyes with fat tears, churning her stomach until she feels like she might be sick right there. Something—something warm and calming—feels like it's being draped over her like a blanket, but the fear of being suffocated by some emotion that is not her own has her pushing against it, fighting the feeling with newfound terror that has David wincing away at the backlash. Bug suffers her fury and his entire body shakes with the effort of containing her raging emotions. And then, another voice suddenly, one that cuts through her thoughts like a thunderclap,

: _Control yourself!_ :

Regina's voice. Emma jerks again, startled gaze finding Regina still sitting astride Mercy's back, those dark eyes pinning her with a glare.

: _If you can't handle your parents right now then don't, deal with them later, but right now you're hurting your Companion and making yourself look like a fool._ :

Emma sucks in a rattling breath as if she's been slapped, one hand grabbing blindly for Bug's mane until she can feel his pelt shivering under her touch. Keeping her watery eyes glued to the bells of the saddle beneath her, she fights to control the tremor in her own hands. : _Bug? Bug, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's happening._ :

:: _Your Gift, Emma. You're an Empath like your parents. You can feel and manipulate emotions, and right now I am getting the brunt of your outburst._ ::

: _I'm sorry_ —:

:: _Take a deep breath, Chosen, and calm yourself. Your father is shielding the others from your influence. I'm the only one directly linked in sharing your emotions._ :: His voice isn't accusing, just firm and factual.:: _Rolan, she isn't ready. They need to leave and give her space._ ::

:: _I understand._ :: Rolan relays the message to David and, as soon as David is sure that Emma is no longer projecting unstable emotions, he grabs Snow and they reluctantly hurry away to the Palace. Left in an almost eerie silence, Rolan and Blanche finally back away to give Bug some breathing space. :: _Are you grounded?_ ::

:: _I'm fine,_ :: Bug thinks dully. :: _Emma will need to be taught to ground and shield herself soon. Her thoughts and emotions are projecting wildly and there is only so much I can do to help control it._ ::

:: _Let's get her settled in as quickly as possible and speak to the Dean about her lessons._ ::

:: _I've spoken to the others. A third year trainee is on his way now to mentor them,_ :: says Blanche, pawing uneasily at the ground.

:: _Them?_ :: Rolan looks momentarily confused before finally noticing Mercy and Regina lingering nearby. The brunette has arrived at the same time as Emma, which means they'll be starting their lessons together as first years. :: _Perhaps Emma should have a separate mentor_ —::

:: _Nonsense,_ :: Mercy interjects. :: _She will not be given special treatment because of a little outburst. They will stay together. It's for the best._ ::

She narrows her eyes so sternly that even Rolan looks slightly admonished.

:: _Here he is,_ :: Blanche says as a lanky boy of about fifteen bounds up next to her, his unruly curls nearly covering his eyes and a lopsided grin stretching his lips.

"Hullo!" he greets them all, either unaware or ignoring the tension in the group. "I'm Baelfire, third year. There some new trainees needing a mentor?"

:: _Emma, dearheart,_ :: Bug says softly, aware that Emma's frozen posture has yet to relax. :: _This boy is also a Herald trainee, and he's going to show you around and get you settled in, alright?_ ::

Trying desperately to swipe the evidence of tears from her face, Emma gives a wobbly sniffle. : _Alright…_ :

Mercy says the same to Regina, who simply nods her head and spares a glance at Baelfire.

"Follow me, please," he says, motioning to them and heading for the stables. Bug and Mercy trail after him with a silent Emma and Regina astride. Watching them off, Rolan and Blanche exchange a weary look.

:: _She simply needs some time, Chosen,_ :: Rolan projects to David, his voice comforting. He and David have always had a very close Herald-Companion bond and thus he can sense that the man is currently leading Snow into the private Common Rooms of the Royal Palace, their most cherished hiding place when they need a moment away from their responsibilities.

:: _She's frightened and tired is all. She will come around, darling,_ :: Blanche says, projecting a wave of love and reassurance to Snow. :: _At least she is here and safe._ ::

: _You're right, at least she has been brought back safely,_ : Snow thinks back softly, though even her Mindvoice sounds wilted. The four say no more, Queen and Queen's Own retreating into themselves and their two Companions wandering back to the Companions Field.

* * *

"So, what're your names?" Baelfire asks cheerily, looking comfortable and right at home as he strides through the massive stables. Each stall is neatly labeled with bronze nameplates for each Companion, and Regina notices immediately that there are no doors or gates anywhere, allowing the Companions easy access wherever they please.

"Regina," she says curtly, glancing sideways when Emma does not introduce herself. "That is Emma."

Emma doesn't even bother glancing up at either of them, though Baelfire smiles in her direction nonetheless.

"Pleasure." Stopping at a pair of empty stalls, he steps back and motions to them. "These stalls belong to your Mercy and Bug. It's your responsibility to keep it clean and stocked up, just as it's up to you to care for them and their tack. You'll learn a lot more from Herald Kathryn once you begin your equestrian lessons. For now, I'll help you get your Companions settled down. Dismount and we'll go grab some supplies from the tack room."

Regina smoothly dismounts, pausing to stroke her hands over Mercy's nose and receive a soft nudge before walking after the older boy. Emma is less graceful, stumbling and almost landing on her rear if not for Bug pushing her upright with his head.

:: _Easy, dearheart. Don't think about your parents right now. Let's just handle one thing at a time, alright?_ ::

Nodding with reluctance, Emma hurries after Baelfire and Regina, finally lifting her eyes to size up the older boy. Baelfire wears a uniform much like David—a fitted tunic and breeches—except instead of David's pure white, his are a soft, medium shade of gray.

:: _Trainees wear Grays,_ :: Bug's voice provides clearly and helpfully in her mind even as she walks further and further away from him. :: _Full Heralds wear Whites._ ::

Near the middle of the long building is a tack room chock full of equipment. Baelfire waltzes in and tosses a few brushes, combs, and rags into a bucket, fills another with water from the pump in the corner, and politely carries it all for them as he tells them all about the facilities there. Back at the stalls, Mercy and Bug have already situated themselves in their stalls, munching quietly from grain buckets.

It takes them a good two hours to brush down and wash off their Companions and to clean up and put away the fanciful tack, which Baelfire informs them was for the special occasion of their first meeting only, and that for the rest of their trainee years, they would be using plain student saddles.

"These are yours until you graduate," he says as he points to a pair of well worn saddles hung up on the wall of gear. Beneath each, he slides in little bronze nameplates to mark them as Mercy's and Bug's. "Take good care of them. If they need repairs, let Herald Kathryn know."

"Where is this Herald Kathryn?" Regina murmurs, to which Baelfire glances up and down the long building and shrugs.

"She's always around here or the Field somewhere. She's our equestrian master, so ask her if you have any questions about your Companion. Come on." He heads back towards their stalls, pausing momentarily at one stall housing a dozing stallion. "This is my Companion, Pan."

Pan blinks open his blue eyes and glances them over with a polite nod and a chuff before going back to his napping, getting a laugh out of Baelfire.

"He's usually a lot more playful, but Herald Kathryn ran us hard on the courses today, and of course he had to show off and wear himself out. My legs are still aching from clinging on. Come on, I'll get you two assigned your rooms and you can wash up and get changed in time for supper. Say your goodbyes, you can come visit your Companions later."

He continues on slowly, giving them a moment with their Companions. Regina settles a hand on Mercy's nose while Emma ducks under Bug's head and leans against his chest in a hug.

:: _I'll be around, dearheart. Besides, your Mindspeech is quite strong, we should still be able to reach each other from across the Collegium if you need to hear my voice._ ::

Emma purses her lips, eyes distant. : _Mindspeech? Is that what this is called?_ :

:: _Indeed. Most Heralds have it to some degree. Now go on, my little scoundrel, you have a very busy day ahead._ ::

He bumps his nose against her shoulder softly before she finally lets go and trails after Baelfire.

Regina places a soft kiss atop Mercy's nose before also following suit.

:: _She has a very difficult role to fill, darling,_ :: Mercy says, watching her little brunette walk off. :: _And she is your yearmate. Remember what I said?_ ::

: _Heralds take care of each other,_ : Regina thinks dully, glancing at the obvious hunch of Emma's shoulders as the blonde walks just a few paces ahead of her.

:: _As family should. Be there for her, Chosen, just as she will surely be there for you._ ::

: _I will try,_ : Regina replies, grimacing as they catch up with Baelfire and the boy leads them towards the main Collegium building. : _I don't like her, but I will try._ :

* * *

Baelfire gives them a quick tour of the Collegium, leading them through the corridors of the various classrooms and amenities, showing them the paths to the library and Common Room, and then the direction of the girls dorm.

"All the girls' dorms are that way," he says, pointing to a wide corridor as they pass it. "Boys dorm is on the other side of the Collegium. Bathing rooms are located at the end of each dorm, and housekeeping is down this way."

He takes them down a flight of stairs into a laundry and boiler room, where an older and rather matronly woman sits by a table piled high with fabrics both white and gray. A few trainees in gray uniforms assist her, mending uniforms, crafting boots, or washing clothes in the giant fabric tub.

"Hey, Granny, we got two newly Chosen," says Baelfire, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "Emma, Regina, this is Granny, our Collegium Housekeeper."

"It's Eugenia," the woman huffs, squinting her eyes at him before standing and dusting her hands off. She doesn't bother with greetings and simply attacks the two girls with a measuring tape, squeezing and pinching and muttering numbers under her breath before nodding to herself and toddling over towards cabinets lining one end of the room. After some digging around, she comes up with two neat stacks of gray clothing and shoves them into their arms. A bit more digging around and some glaring at their feet, and she gives them each a pair of leather boots.

"That should fit for now. Anything that don't, or when you start growing out of it, you just come back here. And make sure you cycle your uniforms through the laundry, chores exist for a reason and I won't have a trainee walking around in soiled clothing."

She harrumphs and heads back to the table to continue her sewing, effectively dismissing them.

"Thanks, Granny," Baelfire grins, ducking back up the staircase before Eugenia can throw a boot at his head. Regina and Emma hurry after the boy, clutching their new items to their chests as he leads them towards the girls dorms at a long-legged pace.

"We're running a bit behind. Come on now, quick." He stops halfway down the hall, double checking the numbers on the doors before nodding and popping open two doors across from each other. "Here are your rooms. You'll be here until you graduate, and then full Heralds get their own suites over in the Heraldic wing. Come on. You two should wash up and get changed first."

He starts leading them down the hall again. Regina and Emma both glance back at their open doors before following him with uncertain steps. Emma's lips are tightly pursed shut, but Regina says, "What about our rooms?"

"What about them?"

"You just left our doors open. Do they even have locks?"

"We don't need locks." He glances over his shoulders at her, quirking a brow. "Didn't your Companions tell you?"

"Tell us what?"

He slows his strides, shifting sideways so that he can look at them both as they walk. "Companions only Choose those who are not only Gifted, but also pure of heart."

Regina's nose crinkles. "So what, we're just supposed to blindly trust everyone here just because they're Heralds?"

"Well, there's no reason _not_ to trust each other…" Baelfire frowns. "Heralds are Chosen because of their ability to do the right thing. There has never, in all of history, been a crooked Herald. The Companions have never Chosen poorly thus far."

"Pardon me if I don't believe that," Regina says lowly, gritting her teeth and averting her gaze. Baelfire looks her over—she can't be more than thirteen—and wonders how it is that a newly Chosen could already be so pessimistic. Perhaps it's her obvious upbringing from Karse, but he has never been one to judge.

"Uh, here's the bathing room. Help yourself to anything in there, and dump your old clothes and any used towels in the laundry chute. When you're done, leave your spare uniforms and whatever else you've got in your rooms and meet me by the entrance. Don't take too long; if we're lucky we'll catch the tail end of supper."

With a wave of his hand, he bounds off back the way they came. Regina heads straight into the bathing room and, after a moment's hesitation, Emma follows.

A row of copper tubs line the tiled floor, each with a set of brass taps that seem to transfer water through the pipes running from the walls. There's a large supply of fresh towels by a table, a ceramic bowl full of pale green soap bars, and a few mirrors on the far wall. Silently following Regina's take-charge actions, Emma grabs a towel and a soap bar before setting her things down at the end of a tub and fiddling with the taps. To her utter amazement, heated water begins filling the tub.

: _Is it magic?_ : she thinks, confused.

:: _Is what magic?_ :: Bug asks. Thanks to Emma's shaken state, however, her thoughts are easily projected and he knows what she's staring at before she even thinks up a worded response. :: _No, they use air pressure to push water from the boiler room up through the pipes. Emma, dearheart, I am getting all your thoughts and feelings in a jumble. I know you don't know how to control it right now, but can you try to settle your mind? Remember what I said; one thing at a time, alright?_ ::

: _Oh. Right. I'm sorry._ :

She turns off the tap, feeling a little wave of love blossom in her chest, almost like Bug has sent her a spiritual hug. Focusing her thoughts on the here and now, she quickly strips down naked and drops her old clothing into the chute on the far wall before lowering herself into her chosen tub with a soft exhale. Two tubs down, Regina is already chin-deep in steamy water, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Thank god," she mutters, sounding vaguely annoyed. Emma frowns.

"What?"

"Your thoughts. It's been a mess of noise ever since your outburst outside."

A twinge of embarrassment and anger rises up within the blonde. "You— you heard my thoughts?"

"Relax, they were too jumbled up. It just sounded like noise." Regina opens her eyes to glare at her from across the room. "Mercy said we'd learn to ground and shield our minds from other Mindspeakers, but you're projecting all over the place right now."

"I'm not doing it on purpose!"

:: _Can you talk to your Chosen?_ :: Bug complains to Mercy as Emma's emotions rush through him. :: _Emma is getting worked up again._ ::

:: _Darling,_ :: Mercy says sternly, her voice directed at Regina. :: _Whatever you're doing, please stop. Emma's Gifts are strong and she doesn't know how to control them right now._ ::

Sighing heavily, Regina starts to scrub herself clean with the pale green soap bar, nose tingling when she realizes it smells of sage. "I'm sorry. I know you can't control it right now."

Emma scrubs at herself too, rubbing the dirt and grime from her skin until she's pink and raw. After a moment of splashing around, she glances towards the other girl begrudgingly.

"Thanks for yelling at me earlier," she mutters. Regina gives the tiniest snort of amusement.

"No one has ever thanked me for yelling at them before."

"Don't worry, won't happen again." Emma rolls her eyes a little, leaning back to dunk her hair. The two girls wash up in silence, only the soft sounds of splashing echoing in the tiled room. Emma gets out first, quickly and efficiently drying herself and struggling into the unfamiliar new uniform. Hot baths had never been a luxury she received and she isn't going to start indulging now, not when she still can't quite believe that this is all real and not going to be taken away like some cruel joke.

"Do you believe him?" Regina finally says, her expression giving nothing away.

"Who? What?"

"Baelfire. Do you believe him when he said that all Heralds are innately good people?"

Emma glances over wearily but quickly turns around when Regina glares and motions sharply for her to look away. A splash of water tells her that Regina is out of the tub and hurrying to dry off. "I don't know. You think the Companions would Choose bad people?"

Regina frowns, pulling on her set of Grays as Emma drains her tub and tosses her towel down the laundry chute. "They might be magical but they're not gods. Maybe they make mistakes too."

Emma pulls her boots on, pleasantly surprised that they actually fit her without hurting her feet, and clutches her spare uniforms to her chest as she waits for Regina by the door. "Do you think Mercy made a mistake when she Chose you?"

Regina has no answer to that. She drains her tub, tosses the towel, and snatches up the remainder of her items before following Emma out.

* * *

By the time they find Baelfire after dumping their meager belongings in their new dorm rooms, the older boy is chatting out in the main hall with some other trainees near his age, all of them wearing Grays. Some of the uniforms vary slightly—short sleeve tunics for summer, long sleeve tunics with collars for autumn. One scrawny boy wears a thick, gray wool sweater, cowering against the evening breeze drifting through the large main doors as trainees make their way outside.

"Oh, hey," Baelfire says when he notices them shuffle up behind him. He bids his friends a quick goodbye, the others giving Emma a curious look before heading out. "Supper ended a minute ago, but there's plenty leftover for us to grab from the kitchen. Come on."

"Where is everyone going?" Emma asks, watching longingly as the other trainees laugh and exit the main doors.

"Most of us don't have evening classes, so it's free period. They recommend spending as much of our free time bonding with our Companions as possible. The stronger the bond, the better we work together." He motions for them to follow and leads them into the Common Room, passing a few lingering groups of trainees on the way.

Regina can already feel everyone's gazes, knows a few are narrowing their eyes at the shade of her skin. She wants to hunch her shoulders and make herself invisible. Instead, she sneers, lifts her chin, and walks tall after Baelfire and Emma.

"Ignore them," Emma mutters under her breath. Regina glances at her and Emma pretends to not have said anything at all, focusing on the smell of food as Baelfire leads them straight through to the kitchens past the serving tables. There's a stern looking woman with graying hair working over a massive pot of steaming soup while a few trainees in aprons run around the kitchen packing up and preserving the leftovers.

"Hey, Cook," says Baelfire, smiling that boyish smile of his as he approaches the stern woman. "Just orienting our two newest Chosen. Mind if we grab some leftover supper?"

Cook turns, pinning Emma and Regina down with a hard stare. After a moment, she shakes her head with a disapproving click of her tongue. Both girls cringe, expecting to be denied a meal—and neither can say that they're not accustomed to going to bed hungry—but Baelfire just stands there grinning as Cook turns and starts piling up three wooden plates high with food. Cold cut meats, cheeses, fresh fruits and thick slices of bread. Three wooden bowls of hot, thick vegetable soup are ladled up from the pot she'd been working over earlier, and then Cook is shoving a plate and a bowl in each of their hands with a glint in her steely eyes.

"Too skinny for youngling Heralds," she states in a thick accent, already shooing them out towards the dining area. "Eat, eat. We fill you out in no time."

Baelfire laughs and thanks her, leading the way to the bench table closest to one of the two fireplaces in the Common Room. The flames are still going strong and they sit with their backs to it to warm themselves as they tuck into their meals.

"So, bells signal everything around here," Baelfire says, delving into another orientation lesson without preamble. "They'll wake you in the mornings, signal class changes, and signal every meal— oh, if you need food between meals, that cabinet over there is stocked, you can help yourself at any time. Your class schedule will be given to you after you go through your knowledge orientation with the Dean. He'll be the one deciding what level of each class to start you in, so make sure you answer all his questions as honestly as you can. You'll be put in specialized classes for whichever Gifts you have, so don't worry too much if you don't know how to control it right now. Most of us take around five years to complete classes and training, and then when you're ready to graduate, they send you out on your internship."

Emma nods slowly, eating in silence. The fare she'd had at the inns she'd stayed in on the journey here were decent, but this is by far the most rich meal she's ever had in her entire life, and she can feel her tongue tingling with pleasure at all the different tastes she's being treated to. Before this, she'd grown up on charred fish and bits of stale bread, maybe the occasional overripe fruit if she was lucky enough to find one.

"Slow down," Regina mutters, kicking Emma gently with her boot when she sees the slightly younger girl shove an entire cut of meat and cheese into her mouth. "Looking half starved the way you do, you eat like that and you'll make yourself sick for days."

Emma scowls, but Baelfire leans over the table to look at her and nods in agreement. "She's right. I made the same mistake when I first came here."

Both girls look at him in question so he continues. "I was living on the streets as a thief. Pan rescued me when I was twelve, and just in time too, Cook actually looked offended when she first saw me and my ribcage." He chuckles at the memory. "Anyway, stuffed myself on the best supper I'd ever tasted. Spent the next two days heaving up everything they tried to put in me, I couldn't even hold down soup. Believe me, your stomach needs to slowly get used to proper meals."

Dismayed, Emma frowns but paces herself, pushing away the rest of her plate and slowly sipping on her soup instead. Regina sighs a little and returns her attention to Baelfire.

"The internship, what is it?"

"They send you out on a circuit with one of the Heralds. You assist, mostly. They'll show you how a proper circuit is done, you might get to see a bit of action out there. Circuits last about a year and a half, and when you return, the Herald gives a full report on your performance. If the Council approves, you successfully graduate and get your full Heraldic Whites."

"And then?" Regina prompts.

"Then?" Baelfire quirks a brow. "Then you're an official peacekeeper of Valdemar. All the Heralds rotate and take turns running circuits, patrolling the kingdom, settling disputes, checking in on other towns and villages. Serving and protecting." After a hesitant pause, he shrugs. "If ever a war were to happen in the future, we become the first line of defence."

Regina looks down into her soup, frowning and stirring the vegetables around as Emma mops up the remains of her own soup with a chunk of bread.

"Quite the life," the brunette finally says, glancing sideways as Emma fits the soggy bread into her mouth.

"Someone has to do it." Baelfire smiles wryly. "The Companions Choose us because we are the best suited. Because we'll do the right thing."

"You are very adamant about that."

"They haven't been wrong yet, so neither have I." He grins, shoving another piece of meat into his mouth before standing with his emptied plate and bowl. "You two done? We should get you to the Dean."

Regina nods and rises, collecting her things. Emma sighs longingly at the remaining slices of meat and cheese on her plate but obediently picks up her things and follows them back to the kitchen where their hands are emptied by the trainees currently doing dishes.

"Come on," says Baelfire, already striding off. They trail after him through the corridors, up a wide flight of stone staircases, and down another hall, passing by a trainee who is slowly making his way through each hall to refill the wax torches lining the walls.

"Will we be doing chores as well?" Regina asks, not out of dismay but simple curiosity. Baelfire nods, pausing outside a tall, uniquely carved wooden door.

"Yes. The Dean will ask what you are comfortable doing or have skills in doing, and you'll be assigned a chore for the duration of your schooling. The Royal family has never believed in having servants. There are pages and hired workers, of course, but they're treated well and paid fairly. Anyway, this is it. The Dean's office is just through here. Take turns going in and he'll set you up with whatever it is you need. I've got to get going. When you're done, head back to your rooms and get some sleep, alright? Do you remember the way?"

When both girls nod, he smiles and flashes them a grin.

"Alright then. I'll meet up with you after breakfast to show you to your first classes. Until then."

With a wave he's gone, disappearing down the torch-lit corridors. Emma and Regina exchange a look before glancing at the daunting door.

"Who should go first?" Emma asks in a small voice, and for the first time that day, she looks every bit the lost little twelve year old girl that she is. Regina takes pity on the way the blonde leans away from the door and sighs.

"I will go first. Sit down right here next to the door and wait your turn, alright?"

Emma nods, sliding down into a scrunched sitting position against the wall. When Regina's hand touches the knob, Emma says, "Will you wait here for me when it's my turn?"

The brunette purses her lips. "If you insist."

* * *

Dean Archibald is not what either girl had expected. He's older, curls of red and gray hair peeking out from under his cap and a pair of half-moon spectacles sitting on his nose which he's constantly pushing back up with a knobbly finger. He has a soft, genuine smile and a soothing voice during the hour that he speaks to each of them, asking them unending questions to figure out how much—or how little—knowledge they possess. It's a lot of talking and reciting for both parties, and he remedies their tiring voices with hot cups of honeyed tea that Regina finds passable and Emma absolutely adores.

When he's decided on a suitable class schedule, he talks them through what their days will look like, even telling them what they are free to do during their free time, including exploring most of the Collegium grounds with their Companions if they wish. Emma is eventually assigned to help Eugenia with mending clothing as her chore, as her nimble fingers are used to patching all manner of fabrics for her previous guardians. Regina is to assist in the stables with whatever Herald Kathryn requires, and that suites her just fine.

Before Emma is released, Archibald asks a few gentle questions about her life prior to coming to the Collegium, asking the names of the men who had thus far been her 'guardians' and whether she remembers anything else from her past.

"Liam and Smee," she says dully, nose wrinkling when she remembers the stink of the rum the men are always drinking. "They raised me for as long as I can remember."

"They found you?"

"I guess. Said I was left by the edge of the forest with nothing but a blanket with my name on it…" She blinks, then her face crumples up a little in distress. She'd forgotten to grab her blanket.

"Is something wrong?" Archibald asks kindly, to which she smooths out her expression and forces a tight smile, shaking her head in the negative. He knows she's lying, of course, but knows better than to push her, instead giving her a sympathetic smile before finally sending her off with her new schedule and a small stack of books she'll be needing for classes. When she glances longingly at her unfinished mug of tea, he brightens.

"You like it? It's the Collegium's specialty. There is a jar of the mixture in every trainee's room, along with a kettle and a burner so that you can make it in your room whenever you want. It has wonderful healing properties and helps with your sleep."

Excited by the prospect, Emma bids him a goodnight and exits the office, mildly surprised that Regina is indeed still waiting in the corridor for her. The brunette just meets her eye for a moment before nodding and leading the way back to the girls dorm. She has a bigger stack of books than Emma does, her classes more advanced because unlike the illiterate blonde, she's been raised with a strict education.

"I suppose we won't have any classes together at all," Emma says, so softly it could be a whisper, tones of disappointment in her voice. Regina looks at the slightly younger girl's thin stack of books but doesn't point out the obvious.

"You never know, we might."

"We won't," Emma says with a little shake of her head, the girls stopping just outside their doors. "You're smart. The only thing I know how to read or write is my own name."

She smiles, a forced little smile, and pushes open her door with her thin books clutched to her chest.

"Goodnight, Regina. Thank you for waiting for me."

The blonde disappears into her room, the door clicking shut quietly behind her and leaving Regina alone in the hall, her dark eyes uncertain.

"Goodnight," she mutters to no one.

* * *

Baelfire finds them in the Common Room during breakfast, Emma and Regina sitting together at an empty table in the corner. The girls aren't really talking to each other but they're not talking to anyone else, either. The room is abuzz with gossip and all eyes are on the pretty little blonde, now openly known as Queen Snow's daughter, but no one approaches them because Regina—clearly a Karsite with her tanned olive skin—skewers anyone who comes near with a glare.

"Good morning," he greets them cheerily, setting his plate and mug down as he slides onto the bench across from them.

"Good morning," both girls mumble back, Emma with her eyes downcast and Regina with her spine stiff and straight.

"So I, ah—" He clears his throat, taking a bite out of a hot roll. "The Dean spoke with me before I came to breakfast. There's a bit of a change in plans for today. I'll show you to your first class, Regina, and then Emma, I'll be taking you to the Palace."

Green eyes widen into the size of saucepans and Emma visibly tenses in her seat, hunching down even smaller than thought possible. Regina spares her a glance and says, "Do the Companions think that is wise?"

"Pan tells me that they've all agreed to it. And Herald David has the same Gift as she does, so he can handle it." Baelfire smiles somewhat apologetically when Emma pins him with an accusing look, but he says no more as they eat in silence. The bell tolls within the hour and after they drop off their plates in the kitchen bin, he leads them to Regina's first class: History.

"You said your next class was Law? It'll be just down the corridor to your right there." Baelfire points and Regina nods. "Alright. We'll see you at lunch hour."

The brunette pauses, dark eyes landing on Emma and brows furrowing in concentration.

: _Don't lose control. Trust in your Companion to be your anchor._ :

Emma blinks in surprise again, unused to hearing a Mindvoice other than Bug's, but Regina's Mindspeech is smooth and calming in her head.

"See you at lunch," Regina says out loud, turning swiftly and disappearing into her classroom. Baelfire taps Emma on the shoulder and strides off when he's sure she's following him.

"I don't want to intrude, but Pan told me what happened outside yesterday," he begins tentatively, hands deep in his pockets as they walk through the emptying corridors. As the last of the trainees rush into their classrooms, the bell tolls again, signalling the start of the morning's lessons. "Very few Heralds have Empathy. It's a strong Gift, somewhat rare, really. One that could be misused if uncontrolled."

"Misused?" Emma repeats, anxious. "But you said Heralds are good people."

"They are, but they're still human, and humans make mistakes." They exit the Collegium from the main entrance and round the building, crossing the field towards the Royal Palace. The elegant building has multiple spires and the marble entrance seems to loom overhead as Emma reluctantly follows Baelfire inside, immediately feeling like a street rat that has wandered into somewhere it doesn't belong. "I know this is all very overwhelming for you, but you need to remember that controlling your Empathy is the single most important thing right now. People could get hurt if you have an outburst."

Their steps slow, Baelfire purposefully buying himself a little more time as they trot down the wide, gleaming corridors. "Lean on your Companion, Emma. They are linked into your thoughts and emotions. If you think you're slipping, let Bug shield you. Trust him to shift you back into the right place. If you fight it, you'll only cause him to lose control too."

Emma lowers her head. "Like yesterday?"

Baelfire confers quickly with Pan, his Companion affirming that Bug had, indeed, been negatively affected by the girl's outburst. "Yes, like that."

Stopping outside a double door made of thick, dark wood, Baelfire raps his knuckles against it thrice, then steps back and smiles wryly at her. "You can do this. Bug is with you, always."

Heavy footfalls approach from within the room, seconds away from answering the door.

"Just remember that they love you and want you. Not everyone is so lucky." With a quick wave, he turns and trots off just as the door pulls open, David's gentle face appearing.

"Emma," he greets softly, stepping back and pulling the door open wider. He's in casual Whites, simple slacks with a thin and loose tunic. "Please, come in."

With great reluctance, Emma enters the private Common Room. It's warm and dimly lit, the flames within the fireplace casting a soft orange glow over the plush armchairs and chaise. Just next to the fire, Snow sits demurely on a red loveseat, plainly dressed in a modest white gown. As David shuts the door and leads the way over, motioning towards a comfortable armchair across from the loveseat, Emma tugs self-consciously on her Grays. She'd chosen the winter variation of the uniform that day due to the briskness of the morning and now regrets it as the fire warms her to the bone.

"Hello, Emma," Snow says when Emma finally sits down across from her, her hands tightly clasped in her lap to refrain from her great desire to smooth down the girl's wild blonde hair. Twelve years of missing her daughter and she has yet to even get to touch her. "How are you today?"

Emma swallows thickly, avoiding the woman's eyes, her hands trembling ever so slightly in her lap. "I'm fine."

:: _Don't be afraid, dearheart,_ :: Bug says softly, his gentle voice a source of comfort in her mind. :: _I'm here with you._ ::

As David settles down next to Snow, he leans forward with his elbows on his knees and ducks his head to catch Emma's downturned gaze. "Emma, I have the Gift of Empathy, just like you do. I would like to use it to help you stay calm while we talk, as I know you haven't been taught to control it yet. Would that be alright?"

She hesitates, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. : _Bug?_ :

:: _He won't manipulate you, Chosen. He is just going to project calmness over you, to help you relax. I promise._ ::

Nodding her acceptance, Emma feels the shift in the air almost immediately, a sense of comfort settling over them like a soft blanket. Her shoulders relaxing a little, Emma takes a deep breath and finally lifts her head to see Snow and David smiling tentatively at her.

"Would you…" Snow's voice wavers just a moment before she clears her throat. "Would you prefer to ask us questions, or would you like us to simply start from the beginning?"

Tugging at her collar, Emma says, "You can…"

She trails off but they nod in understanding, exchanging a look before Snow decides to go first.

"You were born at the summer palace," she begins, one hand clasped with David's. "It's not far from here, a week's journey, private and peaceful. A secret hideaway, really, its location known only by the council and our most trusted advisors. We stayed there for a few weeks before making the trip back here. We had a small contingent of guards with us, but not a day into our journey, a man from a nearby village said there were wild dogs running loose in his field and asked for our help. I… I sent our guards to assist him while we continued ahead."

David's fingers squeeze her hand, a silent comfort. She'd spent years drowning in guilt, believing that had she not fallen for the simple ruse, they might not have lost Emma in the attack at all.

"We were ambushed not even halfway there. We thought they were thieves or bandits at first, but when they broke into the carriage…"

Snow's free arm curls around her body, her hand pressing flat against her side as if the spot were still tender. "They attacked me and stole you from my arms. Blanche stayed with me while David and Rolan went after them— after you."

Emma's eyes glimmer in the firelight, her lips quivering slightly as David speaks next.

"We gave chase and I managed to hit two of the men with arrows, but I couldn't risk firing at the one holding you. Rolan went as far as he could but he'd taken two arrows and was lagging behind until they outran us, and by then Blanche was shouting for us to return as Snow had lost consciousness. Rolan and I rushed her back to Haven as Blanche went on ahead to shout for every Companion and Herald within her range. We had Heralds pulled from every circuit nearby trying to find you, to hunt down the men who took you. We—"

He hesitates, looking upon his young daughter until Snow jumps in for him. Of the two, she has always been the one to do what needed to be done, regardless of her own feelings on the matter. Her mother—the late Queen Eva—had instilled the grim sense of duty and responsibility in her early on, never one to shy from the truth, no matter how difficult.

"Two of their bodies were found in the search. They'd succumbed to their wounds. The third man… When he was finally caught, you weren't with him. He said he'd… gotten rid of you. Before we had a chance to interrogate him further, he… killed himself."

Emma stares down at her fiddling fingers, a sort of longing and sadness sitting heavily in her chest. The panic and despair she'd expected to feel is distant, held at bay by a power not of her own. She's not sure how she feels about David suppressing the worst of her emotions, but she understands that it's better than her having an outburst and unintentionally injuring someone.

"They took me away and pretended to kill me?" she asks softly, her thoughts clear, uninhibited. "You... you didn't throw me away?"

Snow chokes back a sob. David nods his head, eyes wet.

"We wanted you, so, _so_ much," Snow whispers.

"We never got to raise you here, loved and wanted, the way you deserved," says David. Snow catches her gaze and forces her trembling lips into a sad smile, eyes wet with fresh tears, green eyes that Emma has seen in her own reflection. She'd stared into a grimy hand mirror so many times in the past, wondering if she'd inherited those eyes from one of her parents.

"Not a day goes by that I haven't thought of you and mourned you," Snow whispers, voice losing its steady smoothness. Her breath catches just a little as she slides from the loveseat onto the carpet on her knees, only an arm's length away from the armchair Emma occupies. "I am so sorry for the life you've had to live, Emma."

Her hands hover just inches from her sides, desperate to hold her. Emma can see the way the woman gravitates towards her but she can only freeze up, uncertain and unused to any sort of physical affection. David shifts onto his knees on the carpet as well and holds out a hand, his blue eyes pleading.

"May we hold you, Emma? Please?"

His hand reaches forward, palm up, thick fingers just inches from hers. Emma almost accepts his hand, but her fingers stop just short of his, brows pinched.

"Take it away," she says, but when he winces and lowers his hand, she shakes her head. "The Gift. Your… your calm. Take it away."

Realizing her meaning, he slowly eases the calming projection away, pulling his Gift in until he is no longer influencing her mood. Emma takes a slow breath, sitting there quietly as her many emotions roll through her in full. They _wanted_ her. She'd spent her entire life believing that she wasn't good enough, that they threw her away. She used to wish desperately to find her parents and then immediately wish the opposite, too terrified of the possibility of being turned away, of rejection.

Tears fill her big eyes as she stares at the two people kneeling there in front of her, _crying_ , pleading to have her in their life. Her parents actually _wanted_ her.

:: _It's alright to cry, dearheart,_ :: Bug says softly, letting the shared wave of pain and sadness wash over him. :: _It's alright to mourn the life you should have had._ ::

A sob breaks free and Emma throws herself from the chair into their arms, her little heart breaking within her chest as the arms she'd dreamed of so many times are finally wrapped around her, holding her tight to warm, familiarly unfamiliar bodies.

"I'm so sorry, Emma. I love you. We love you so much." Snow hugs her tightly and whispers into her hair and David's large hand settles against the back of her head, his other arm wrapped around them both, and later Emma is going to remember to be shy and uncertain around them, a part of her always afraid of being rejected and unwanted again, but right now it feels a little bit like she's finally found home.

* * *

Baelfire comes around to take Emma to her second morning class, much to the girl's relief. Snow and David had, understandably, wanted to spend the day with her, but Snow has a council meeting and David reasons that Emma would likely prefer some time to settle into her new schedule and digest all that's happened. (Emma is slow on the uptake but when she realizes her mother is the Queen of Valdemar, she looks thankful for an escape. It's all a little too much for her young heart to handle.)

Her second class of the day turns out to be Etiquette with Herald Belle, a sweet and incredibly polite brunette with a heavy accent and a bright smile. Most of the students in that level of her class are lowborn children who know nothing of court life, and she starts them out easily enough with basic protocol and social decorum. Emma finds herself somewhat overwhelmed by the amount of attention she gets, not only for being the new trainee but also the long lost daughter of the Queen, and Belle saves her the stress by seating her at the front most corner where she won't be surrounded by curious children.

When the bell tolls for lunch, Belle motions for her to remain seated, tidying up her desk while the classroom filters out. When the rest of the trainees are gone, she pads over and gives Emma a kind smile. "Would you like to walk to the Common Room together, Emma?"

It's an unspoken offer of company, and a bit of protection from getting swarmed by curious classmates, so Emma nods a relieved acceptance and sticks close to the woman's side as they make their way to lunch. Regina is already seated at the same corner table as this morning, alone and stone-faced, so Emma points her out and she and Belle pile up their plates and head over to join her.

"Hi, Regina," the little blonde greets, sliding onto the bench next to her. Regina seems somewhat taken aback by the company but briefly nods her head at the Herald in greeting.

"Hello, I haven't met you yet, you must be Emma's yearmate. I'm Belle, I teach the etiquette class."

"Good to meet you, Herald Belle," Regina murmurs, with none of the glaring or the scathing words she's been giving other trainees thus far. A moment later and another much taller Herald in fitted Whites joins their table, sliding in next to Belle with a friendly smile. Her long dark hair is pulled back in a simple tail and her face is narrow and pretty.

"Darling," Belle greets, pressing a quick kiss to the taller Herald's cheek. The woman grins and tilts her head at the girls.

"These must be our two newest arrivals?"

"Indeed. Girls, this is my wife Ruby. She is the current Collegium weapons master."

"Hi." Ruby wiggles her fingers in a wave, long slender fingers that are lined with dozens of silvery, almost invisible scars from years long past. If one looks closely enough they can see many more scars lining her body, but all are old and her lithe and almost predator-like movements promise that she isn't likely to gain any new injuries nowadays. Experience has made her lethal. "I'll be teaching your combat classes."

"Herald Ruby," both girls politely greet with a nod. Belle leans into her wife's side with a chuckle and the two Heralds chatter quietly together, pausing only to greet Baelfire as the boy joins the table. Conversation is light and though Regina is curious as to how Emma's meeting with her parents went, she says nothing and her face gives little away.

Baelfire shows them to their afternoon classes and finds them again at supper time, though he stays only briefly to check in before slipping off to eat with his own yearmates. With the rest of the evening free, the girls silently walk down to the stables together, ignoring the stares and the whispers as they hurry through the main hall and out the doors.

"They're stupid for caring," Emma says abruptly once they're out of the other trainees' judgemental view, and though Regina knows what the other girl is talking about, she just shrugs and doesn't deign to respond.

"How was the meeting with your parents?" she says instead, their boots thumping softly against the grass as they make their way across the field.

"Bandits stole me and they thought I was dead." Emma sighs, ducking into the stable ahead of her.

"So you've forgiven them. Accepted them."

"I suppose. I have no reason not to." An unfamiliar Companion peeks out from his stall and reaches his nose out towards them. Regina pauses to rub sweetly at his muzzle as Emma watches. "They seem nice. They love me and want to be a part of my life."

Giving the stallion a parting pat to the forehead, they continue on. Regina sniffs. "You don't feel the same way?"

"I… I don't know them." Emma shrugs. "I know they're not to blame, but I don't love them just because they're my parents." She scuffs her boots and sighs as they arrive at their Companion's stalls, muttering once more, "I don't know them."

"You will," Regina says with a shrug of her own before moving into Mercy's stall to greet the mare.

:: _One day,_ :: Bug agrees, whickering happily when Emma steps forward to scratch at his long nose. :: _Hello, dearheart. How was your day?_ ::

: _It was alright, I suppose. I'm not very good at the knowledge classes._ :

:: _You will learn in time, Chosen. It's only your first day, after all. I believe your schedule for tomorrow will be far more to your liking._ ::

: _I have equitation in the morning with Herald Kathryn. Does that mean we get to be together?_ :

:: _Indeed. You'll learn to ride properly so that you no longer sit in my saddle like a sack of potatoes._ ::

: _Was I so bad?_ : she whines.

:: _You'll improve,_ :: he says diplomatically, amused.

:: _I'm sure you will. Both your parents are excellent riders,_ :: a much richer, deeper voice intrudes, causing Emma to jerk her head up. Bug snorts as Rolan clomps up to his stall, the larger stallion dipping his head at Emma in a nod. :: _Good evening, Princess. I trust you are well?_ ::

Emma scowls a little. : _I don't want to be a princess._ :

:: _It is your title, highness, but I will call you Emma if that is what you wish._ :: Emma doesn't really respond other than grunt, and it takes him a moment to realize she is examining his chest. :: _The scars are mostly hidden by my pelt now._ ::

: _Can I feel them?_ : she asks, hesitantly stepping closer to the larger stallion. Rolan tucks his head down to touch his chin against a spot on his chest. With great care, Emma runs her palm over the fine white hairs, feeling the faint ridge of scar tissue hidden beneath where an arrow had once pierced the muscle. Rolan tilts his chin again and she finds the second scar higher up on the other side of his chest, nearing his shoulder.

:: _I could not rescue you that day, and for that, I am sorry._ ::

"It's not your fault," Emma murmurs, hand falling away from the scar tissue. "Thank you for trying."

:: _You have me now, dearheart, and I will protect you with my life,_ :: Bug says softly, shuffling closer to rest his chin against her shoulder. She runs her hands over his velvety nose and Rolan nods his head at the sight of them.

:: _Strengthen your bonds with those close to you and you will never be alone,_ :: he says to her, his eyes gleaming, before turning and trotting off with a soft :: _Farewell,_ :: tossed over his shoulder.

In the next stall over, Regina watches the Grove-born stallion amble away, startling when she realizes Emma is staring at her a little oddly.

"What?" she gruffs.

"Nothing." Emma smiles and turns away, leaving the stable with Bug at her heels. Watching the two leave, Regina slides her hand along the smooth muscle of Mercy's neck and moves to the mare's side.

"Can we explore the Collegium grounds?" she asks aloud, combing her fingers through her silvery white mane. Mercy gives a little whicker of pleasure and shuffles her hooves.

:: _That we can, darling. Hop on and I'll give you the grand tour._ ::


	3. Part 2

**Part 2**

Her Empathy is, in fact, an uncommon Gift. The only Heralds that currently have it and are capable of teaching her is David, and thus she receives private lessons with him thrice a week. Snow also has Empathy, but hers works only with animals and is therefore useless to Emma. Regardless, the woman—her mother—sits in on her lessons whenever she can spare the time, eager to be close to her in some capacity, as Emma continues to keep them both at something of a polite distance.

In her first week there they had tried to convince her to move into the Royal Palace where she would have her own private suite nearer to her parents' quarters, but Emma had refused outright, unable to explain her own inner panic at the thought of being separated from Regina. They share no classes and so the only way she really gets to spend any time with the slightly older girl is at meals and when they're walking to and from their dorms every morning and evening. They don't speak much, though the times that they do, their words are measured and heavy, little admissions of private thoughts and feelings as they both deal with their own struggles in fitting in.

Snow and Charming make every effort they can to spend time with her once she's settled into her classes, inviting her to supper with them in the dining hall of the palace every other evening. As they always send a young page with the invite, Emma is less nervous about declining most of the time, though she works up the courage to accept once in a while, never looking forward to the awkward meals but accepting that they seem to cherish those moments. David is gentle and always allows her to set the pace, but Snow in particular takes some getting used to, the woman overbearing at times, fretting when she realizes that she does not know anything about her daughter and struggling to understand her.

As the days stretch into weeks and it becomes obvious that Snow is constantly changing her approach in an attempt to meet Emma's needs, Emma finds herself slowly appreciating her mother's unending, patient attempts to connect. They may not yet have much of a working relationship, but it's clear that Snow will not give up on her, and for that Emma feels her fears slowly abating.

"I hear Herald Kathryn has started your class on galloping," Snow says conversationally one evening over supper, in her usual seat at the head of the table in the dining hall, with David and Emma on either side facing each other. Emma nods, the muscles in her thighs and calves twinging with soreness at the mere memory.

"It's hard, but I think I'm getting used to it," she replies, fitting a fat cut of venison into her mouth and savouring the rich flavours as she chews the tender meat.

"You are looking quite excellent atop Bug," David offers, smiling sweetly. "I got to see one of your sessions. It's wonderful that you've become so close already."

"He is important to me," Emma admits, feeling a little flutter of adoration in her chest which Bug immediately returns with a soft wave of love. "Do all Heralds bond so closely with their Companions?"

"To some degree, yes." Snow and David both seem to momentarily go elsewhere, likely sending little thoughts of affection to their own Companions. "They are a part of our souls, forever linked to our hearts. You will find many people to care for and love in your lifetime, but your Companion will always be your dearest and most loyal friend."

Emma nods, taking the information in stride as she cuts another chunk from her venison. They fall back into a relatively companionable silence for a while until the scrape of Emma's knife on the plate stops, her lips pursed with unsaid thoughts. Snow and David both continue eating without drawing too much attention to her, giving her the time she needs to voice her thoughts.

"Can I visit home?"

The question has Snow's head jerking up and David looking wounded, but both are slow and careful when they respond, not wanting to scare Emma off.

"Is— is there a particular reason you want to go back there, Emma?" Snow asks finally, unable to comprehend why she would possibly want to return to guardians who had treated her like dirt. Archibald had told her what little he knew of Emma's previous life and from what she'd heard, there was no love lost there.

"I just—" Emma hesitates, eyes wide and crestfallen before she visibly tampers down the feeling and shakes her head with a forced smile. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."

"No, please," Snow says, reaching to set her hand atop Emma's and grimacing when Emma allows it for only a second before pulling away. "You can tell us anything, sweetheart. We just want you to be happy."

Emma chews on her lower lip. "There's just some stuff of mine I wanted to get back."

"What kind of stuff?" David looks genuinely confused. "Whatever it is, we can replace it for you, Emma. Just say the word."

Big green eyes go dull, but Emma looks falsely cheerful when she smiles and shakes her head. "That's okay, I don't really need it, anyway."

She proceeds to convince David into ordering all manner of desserts from the kitchens while Snow falls quiet, her lips pursed in contemplation and her gaze soft as she watches her daughter.

* * *

After a month, Baelfire is no longer required to mentor them, though he joins their table in the corner of the Common Room every so often for meals, having developed something of a brotherly fondness for them. Regina is cordial enough with the older boy, but Emma is the one who—to even her own surprise—warms up to his attempts at friendship. He and Pan join her and Bug on their evening walks sometimes, and once she grows used to riding lessons, they practice together out on the agility courses.

In their second month, Emma finds Regina sitting out in Companion's Field alone.

:: _Go on,_ :: Bug says when he feels her hesitation in approaching. :: _I'm going to go see where Mercy's gone off to._ ::

He trots off, so she pads her way over and flops down ungracefully against the tree Regina is leaning on, the brunette having noted her arrival but saying nothing.

"Hullo," says Emma.

"Hello," Regina murmurs, gently running her hands together. They're sore and she's slowly building up callouses beneath the dark bruises on her fingers. "Has Herald Ruby taught you the longsword yet?"

"We're still using the wooden short swords." Emma reaches over, carefully sandwiching one of Regina's hands between hers. The brunette tries to pull away awkwardly but gives up after a moment when she realizes that the blonde's hands are blessedly cool against her warm, somewhat swollen one. After a few moments, Emma releases it and motions for Regina's other hand, which she gives without complaint. "Do they hurt?"

"Only a little."

Emma hums softly under her breath. "Make any new friends?"

Regina glances at her out of the corner of her eye. "Does Baelfire count?" At Emma's shake of the head, she sighs. "What does it matter? No one wants to be seen with the Karsite trainee. Besides, you haven't been trying either."

"Everyone looks at me and sees the Princess of Valdemar," Emma mutters, her tones too bitter for a child but there nonetheless. "They keep trying to spend time with me, but only because of my title, not who I am. What kind of friendship would that be?"

"Were you not the one who believed that all Heralds are good hearted people?" Regina points out with a dry chuckle. "Surely that means they aren't trying to befriend you just because you're the princess."

A blush rises to the blonde's cheeks at the contradiction, but she purses her lips stubbornly and releases Regina's hand to cross her arms across her flat chest. "Maybe. I don't know anymore."

"Mercy says that Queen Snow is very careful about the people she has in her personal council," Regina says after a moment, gazing absently at the palace. "Her Queen's Own is a Herald, of course, so he is her most trusted advisor, as is Dean Archibald, but any other non-Heralds within her council have to be carefully considered, since there are always those who may want to usurp the throne."

Emma hums noncommittally, so she continues.

"Her chosen council are there for her to lean on, to support and strengthen her, to be her anchors. Mercy says that as the future Queen, you should start to find people you trust the most, too. People who could one day be part of your council."

"I'm only twelve," Emma says, frowning at her.

"And peacetimes do not last forever. There is no telling when you may have to take the throne."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Regina shrugs. "Like I said, Mercy thinks you should start considering that now. Who are your anchors?"

They go quiet again, sitting silently next to each other. Emma works her jaw and sucks on her teeth, staring off into nothingness. She tries prodding Bug but the Companion gives some half-hearted excuse about being busy chatting with his friends.

"I have Bug," she says, which gets a snort out of Regina.

"Obviously, but you cannot rely solely on your own Companion."

"Herald Belle is very wise."

"Indeed."

"Baelfire has been good to us."

"I suppose he has his loyal qualities," Regina relents.

"And…"

"You need more, Emma. This is why you need to be making friends."

"I have you."

The Field is quiet, a gentle breeze rustling the grass and trees. A few unfamiliar Companions graze nearby, and a couple trainees wander along the fence as they stroll around the Collegium.

"A Queen with a Karsite on her council," Regina says after a moment, laughing without humor. "That seems a conflict of interest, doesn't it?"

"I don't care about the color of your skin or the place you came from," Emma argues, looking frustrated as Regina stands up and gently dusts dirt and grass from her uniform.

"I know, you've told me countless times," Regina says dully before walking away. Emma doesn't try to follow.

* * *

A few more newly Chosen arrive at the Collegium that year, adding to Emma and Regina's year group. Academics do not come easily for Emma, but Regina grudgingly helps her when asked and Baelfire offers his assistance freely whenever he finds her hunkered down at a table in the Common Room during free periods, elbow deep in paperwork and looking like she would much rather knock her head against the nearest wall.

One Saturday morning when Emma is, like most of the trainees, sleeping in and lazing about, a young page from the Palace knocks on her door and tells her that her parents would like to have brunch together. The boy is even younger than her, no more than nine years of age but healthy and neatly dressed, well taken care of as an errand boy and messenger within the Royal Palace. She smiles kindly and tells him that she will join them shortly, watching as the boy beams and scurries off again to deliver her answer. Across the hall, Regina's door opens and the brunette peers out to see the source of the earlier knocking sound.

"Good morning," Emma says, her smile warming. Regina clears her throat.

"Good morning." Then she shuts the door. Emma just yawns and retrieves a pair of her formal Grays, taking them to the bathing rooms to wash up and dress for the day. Dumping her nightgown over the chair at her small desk on her way back, she makes the trek down to the stables first after snatching a ripe apple from the kitchens.

Bug is waiting by the fence of Companions Field, so she diverts her path and bypasses the stables, reaching up to scratch gently at his forelock as he greedily snatches the apple from her hand and munches it up into oblivion, looking extremely pleased.

:: _Good morning, dearheart! You're up early for a Saturday._ ::

"I've brunch with my parents," Emma says, the words a little awkward on her tongue. Bug bumps his long face against her chest with a soft and friendly chuff.

:: _Sounds lovely. You'd best not be late then. Shall we go riding later?_ ::

She agrees wholeheartedly, kissing his nose before making her way to the Palace. She's met with them a handful of times in their private Common Room and knows the way by now, but when she enters the main hall, one of the guards there intercepts her.

"Good morning, Princess," he says kindly, a note of respect in his gravelly voice. "Her Majesty is awaiting you in the parlour this morning. Do you know the way?"

Grimacing, Emma shakes her head in the negative, so he exchanges a nod with the other guard on door duty before personally leading her to another wing of the palace. They take a flight of stairs up into an unfamiliar wing and she is ushered into a very lovely little room on the third floor, one curved wall lined with tall windows to let in the bright morning sun. Everything is a shade of white or soft beige, four chairs set around a white table in the middle of the room where Snow, David, and an unfamiliar older man currently sit. Already spread atop the table is a variety of biscuits and pastries, fresh fruits and buttered rolls, and a pot of flowery scented tea.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Snow greets her, immediately brightening up at the sight of her daughter. David hops up to pull out a chair for her, so Emma takes a seat and smiles politely, her stomach already rumbling at the smell of food. She's filled out since arriving here earlier in the year, now a healthy weight with a healthy appetite.

"This must be princess Emma," the unfamiliar man says with a light smile, a hint of an accent buried in his voice. Snow and David nod brightly.

"Emma, we'd like you to meet a friend of ours. This is Lord Joaidane."

"Hullo, Lord Joaidane," Emma says politely, unsure of the man sitting before her. He's older, weathered and with long, graying brown hair that reaches his shoulders and hangs limp around his face. Despite the knobbly wooden cane sitting against the side of his chair, his posture is straight-backed and elegant, his hands crossed together where they rest on the table.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your highness." His eyes crinkle with his warm smile and Emma hesitantly smiles back.

"Lord Joaidane has been away on business recently, but he has been a friend of our family for many decades," Snow explains cheerily, sending the man one of her dimpled grins. "Would you like to join us for tea?"

"Oh, no, I shan't impose on your time with your daughter. I just wanted the chance to meet her." He stands with ease, taking up his cane and inclining his head in Emma's direction. "Again, a pleasure, your highness. I visit often, so I do hope you will do me the honor of supper together some time."

She really hasn't taken quite enough etiquette lessons to volley back with any of his fanciful language, so Emma just gives her nicest smile and nods in agreement, waving politely until he has bid them goodbye and strode out. David beams and pours out a fresh cup of tea for her while Snow reaches for a box just under her chair.

"We have something for you," she says, green eyes glittering. Emma resists the urge to stuff a buttered roll in her mouth—Belle is nothing if not a thorough teacher and her table manners are almost impeccable now, at least—and instead turns her full attention on her mother with a tilt of her head. When the woman gingerly pulls out a familiar wool blanket from the box and hands it over, the little gasp of shock she gives is very real.

"Is this…?"

"Your baby blanket," Snow says softly. "I asked Herald Graham to retrieve it. I washed it and mended it as best as I could."

She does not mention what Graham was doing all the way out there—doesn't even think about the fact that the Herald, along with a small group of guards, had apprehended Liam and Smee and currently have them locked up in the interrogation wing of the Palace—but instead focuses on the blinding smile that stretches across Emma's face as she hugs her beloved blanket to her chest, glad that she'd asked Graham to ransack the hut to find it.

"Oh, thank you!" Emma cries, overjoyed to be reunited with the only treasured possession she has had in her life thus far. David melts a little at the sight and Snow feels tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, even more so when Emma slides out of her chair to hug them both. She still doesn't call them "mother" or "father", preferring to not call out to them at all, but it's a start.

The baby blanket ends up spread across her bed back in her dorm, the corner with "Emma" embroidered in purple yarn close to her head where she can clutch at the material in her sleep. Regina only briefly enters her room that year when Emma asks her over to help her with a bit of her schoolwork, but her dark gaze finds the embroidered blanket and Emma thinks she sees Regina's eyes soften just a little bit.

* * *

Near the end of their first year, they meet Lily. The seventeen year old is in her fifth and final year and is preparing to leave for her internship with one of the Heralds on circuit. Normally their different classes mean that none of them have the chance to even see each other, nevertheless speak, but Lily spends most of her last week in the Companions' Field to bond with her Companion before leaving and it's the first time they get the chance to interact.

Emma and Regina are sitting tucked under their usual tree, Mercy grazing nearby while Bug prods and pesters the older mare with his boyish playfulness, when Lily strolls by and decides to detour over.

"Afternoon," she calls out, plodding in their direction, tall and leggy in her fitted Grays. Regina scowls and Emma flashes a quick, polite smile.

"Hullo," the blonde greets, watching the tall brunette walk right up to them. They've seen her around the Collegium briefly, but she's only vaguely familiar.

"I'm Lily." Lily drops down cross-legged in front of them, her expression friendly and open despite the squint Regina directs at her. She's sun-kissed tan, her face narrow and pretty, with warm brown eyes and waves of dark hair that fall loose over her shoulders. Emma finds herself blushing lightly as the senior trainee settles her gaze on her. "You're Emma, right?"

"Yes," says Emma, her heart skipping a beat with disappointment. Of course the girl is approaching her because of who she is. She can already feel Regina puffing up with indignation.

"Listen, I don't normally do this, but my Companion has a bit of a crush on yours," says Lily, leaning in and lowering her voice some, her eyes flickering to where Bug prances around Mercy. "He's also shy and stubborn, and he won't go say hello. We're heading out on our internship soon, though, and since we'll be gone for a year or more, I thought it might be a nice surprise if he got a chance to talk to him before we leave. I was hoping you'd be willing to get your Bug to go speak with mine?"

Emma's mouth shapes into a perfect 'o' in surprise, and Regina isn't far behind. That certainly wasn't what she'd expected, but now that she knows Lily is just here in an attempt to do something nice for her Companion, she relaxes and breaks out into a grin.

"Sure. I don't know if Bug would be interested in more, but surely he'd like another friend."

Lily nods enthusiastically, so Emma reaches out for her Companion and a moment later, Bug trots up to them with a happy little toss of his mane, his legs lifting high on each step so that he's nearly dancing on the spot.

:: _Made a new friend, dearheart?_ :: he asks in delight, his blue eyes on Lily.

: _Maybe,_ : Emma thinks, amused. Out loud, she says, "Who's your Companion, Lily?"

"Drogo," says Lily, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at a stallion in the distance. The Companion is stocky, of average height—perhaps a few inches shorter than Bug—but muscular and built like a brick house. He stands a distance away from the other clusters of Companions, shy and awkward but hiding it with an imperious tilt of his head and an irritable flick of his tail. He kind of reminds Emma of Regina, actually. Alone, but acting like it doesn't bother him. Well, that won't do at all; she'll have to remedy that.

Emma grins and lifts up a hand, waiting until Bug settles his chin against her palm before giving him a good scratch. : _Lily and Drogo are heading out on their internship soon, and she thought it might be nice if Drogo made a friend before they leave. He's got a bit of a crush on you, but you wouldn't mind being his friend, would you?_ :

:: _Drogo?_ :: Bug turns his head to peer across the Field at the other stallion. :: _I always just thought he didn't like any of us._ ::

: _He looks kind of shy, doesn't he?_ :

:: _Indeed. I'm happy to go say hello, though, if it would cheer him up. He fancies me, did you say?_ ::

Before Emma can reply, though, he's already bounding off across the field with a skip in his step. Lily laughs while Emma and Regina stare after him, bemused.

"Oh, don't tell me he's actually interested?" Lily says, leaning back on her hands.

"Bug has been chasing after my Mercy for months," Regina mutters—a fact that she has been grumbling about nonstop to Emma, but right now she says it like it's a competition and Drogo has already lost. Emma gives her an amused look, but the three girls quickly turn all their attention on the young stallion as he races up to Drogo and nearly skids to a stop.

"What are they talking about?" Emma wonders aloud, watching the way Bug dances prettily on the spot while Drogo shrinks back, nervous, his ears flattened.

"I've no idea, but I have never seen my Drogo so awkward in his entire life," Lily laughs.

Suddenly, to everyone's surprise, Bug smacks his lips against Drogo's cheek in a playful kiss before bolting away again, tossing his head with a whicker of laughter as Drogo just stands there, legs splayed out and knees locked, his head pulled back and his ears sticking out sideways, his eyes comically large as he freezes in place. He seems to find Lily's gaze from across the field and makes this strange expression of _'Did you see that?!'_ that has Lily toppling backwards on the grass, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter, and Emma joins her shortly after.

"W—What? Why did he— what?" Regina looks indignant and flustered, as if betrayed by Bug's actions after his many months of following Mercy around like a love-struck colt, but even Mercy is laughing nearby, the sound almost akin to a giggle.

"Brilliant!" Lily howls gleefully, a bright smile splitting her face as she rolls over to face Emma. "Drogo will be blushing about that for months! Oh, Haven, thank your Bug for me!"

Bug canters over to them looking far too pleased with himself, and after a quick conversation with Mercy, the two Companions head back towards Drogo to pester the stallion into playing with them. The poor stocky stallion looks absolutely confused and awkward but secretly pleased by the attention, and soon enough the three Companions are racing their way along the fence and bumping shoulders like old friends.

"Isn't he friends with any of the other Companions?" Emma asks after a while, smiling at the sight of them. Overgrown colts, the lot of them. Lily shakes her head a little, sitting back up and plucking stray grass from her sleeves.

"He's never been the most sociable," she admits fondly, at the same time a gaggle of fifth years come out of the stables and wave invitingly at her. She waves back, grinning.

"Not like you?" Emma notes. Lily chuckles.

"Maybe it's part of the mystery in how they Choose us; we balance them out. Besides, I like making friends." She clambers to her feet, making a hand motion when the group in the distance continues waving for her to join them. "Guess I'd better go. Thanks again for your help. It was nice meeting you both!"

"You too," Emma says, while Regina just grunts. Lily takes a few steps and pauses, looking over her shoulder at them.

"I leave for my internship on Friday, after breakfast. Maybe I'll see you before I go?"

It's a coy request for them to see her off and Emma falls into it willingly, her smile eager and her cheeks pink.

"Yes, of course!"

Lily grins and waves, scampering off with her long-legged strides, her long hair trailing after her in the breeze. Regina swats Emma across the arm.

"Ow! What?" Emma huffs. Regina scowls and goes back to reading the textbook she'd brought with her, refusing to speak to Emma again for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Emma and Baelfire see Lily and Drogo off that Friday, along with four other trainees and their Companions, all of them paired up with Heralds heading out on circuit. Emma had tried to coax Regina along but the brunette had grumbled something about homework and slunk away with her textbooks clutched to her chest.

"Hey, good luck with your training," Lily says, perched atop Drogo as she leans over to smile at Emma. "Maybe after I graduate, I'll get to be the one to take you out on your internship circuit!"

"Maybe," Emma says with a flushed smile. The older girl beams and salutes, and Drogo tosses his head and bats his eyelashes at where Bug and Mercy stand, and then they're off, trotting after their mentors out the gates and out of Haven.

"Godspeed!" Baelfire cheers with the others, waving off their elder trainees. The group disperses once the others are out of sight, and Baelfire scratches at the new stubble on his jaw as he glances at Emma. "I hope they're safe out there."

"I'm sure they'll be fine," says Emma. "When do you leave for yours?"

I've got a year and a half to go," he beams, clambering bareback onto Pan when his stallion trots over. "You aren't getting rid of me yet, little swan!"

He laughs and bolts off with Pan, and Emma just rolls her eyes and heads off to her next class, bemused by the new nickname.

They don't see Lily again for a year and a half.

* * *

They're fully settled into their routines by second year, especially once a new group of Chosen arrive as wide-eyed first years. Regina spends most of her free periods out in the stables working with Herald Kathryn or on the field with Mercy. Kathryn has taken a great shining to the girl and thinks she might just be one of the most naturally talented riders she's ever taught, and if it fluffs up Regina's snobby ego just a little, no one says anything about it.

Emma likes to spend her spare time in the training hall with Herald Ruby, training her swordwork and knife throwing until she's top of her year group. Ruby says her aim may be even better than some of the third and fourth years, and Emma just grins to herself at the compliment, wondering if her parents might be proud but never quite feeling comfortable enough to tell them about it. Her weekly brunches and bi-weekly dinners with them have yet to reach a level of familial comfort, not for lack of trying, but because they just don't have enough time to spend together. She can't blame them; Snow is the Queen and David is Queen's Own. Both are constantly running around under the pressure of their responsibilities. It's not their fault they've missed out on twelve years of raising her.

Lord Joaidane joins her for the occasional meal when he visits, usually lunch in the parlor or supper in the dining hall of the palace with her parents. He's attentive and wise, showing great interest when she feels comfortable enough talking about herself, and giving her advice when she seems uncertain of things. He once whispers a suggestion involving slugs, bedrolls, and her friend Baelfire, and Emma thinks the man has a very mischievous streak in him because the prank ends up going off without a hitch, and Baelfire spends a good week making faces at her for it.

Snow and David get nowhere with the imprisoned Liam and Smee. The men swear they'd picked Emma up from the edge of the forest out of pity and raised her as nothing more than their personal errand girl (Liam had screamed bloody murder when David threatened to take a hot poker to his manly bits if he found out he'd ever touched Emma inappropriately,) admitting that they'd seen a man leaving the baby there for dead and then riding off. Their description of the man and his mount matched with the one David and Rolan had lost that fateful day, the one who committed suicide to avoid talking. Snow tries to put it behind her; Emma is alive and well with them now and that's all that matters.

David is less comforted, the question of _why_ always nagging at the back of his mind, and though he smiles and nods at Snow's placating words, a part of him continues to wonder why anyone would plot to steal the princess of Valdemar and then end up ditching her—alive—at the edge of the forest. He lets Snow continue on with her many other responsibilities, but he quietly employs Valdemaran spies to sniff around the kingdom and keep an ear out for old conspirators lest anyone try to make a move against his family again.

* * *

Archery is a required class for every trainee, and when Emma learns the real reasoning for it, she cannot suppress the shiver that skitters up her spine.

"It's of the utmost importance that you memorize your own pattern," Herald Graham says, holding a bundle of arrows in his hand and fingering the heavy, barbed feathers used for the fletching. "Every Herald has a unique pattern, and it's how we verify that an arrow has been sent by one of us. By the end of the month, I expect you to be able to break the barbs in the fletching to your own exact pattern."

He begins handing out the arrows, each tagged with their names. Emma holds her own arrow delicately between her fingers and examines the pattern in the fletching. The differences between each pattern is minute at best unless you carefully count out each barb in the feathering.

"The fletching stands for the Herald who sent it. The colored band conveys the message." Graham plucks up another arrow from his desk and holds it up, showing off the many colored bands wrapped around its shaft.

"Has anyone looked through their books yet? Can anyone tell me what the colors mean?"

When there are blank looks and sheepish head shakes, Graham smiles wryly and chuckles.

"Alright, pay attention now. A white band means that all is well. Heralds send it to announce their presence to other Heralds in the vicinity as a precaution, to avoid startling each other. A green band is a request for a Healer. A gray band is a request for another Herald. Brown is a request to stand by and keep an eye out for further arrows, as there is trouble and the Herald needs to elaborate more."

Emma scribbles away in her messy scrawl, intent on memorizing all that he's telling them.

"A blue band stands for treachery or betrayal. Yellow is a request for military aid. Red signifies danger and a request for immediate help. Lastly, there is black."

Graham purses his lips momentarily, his finger tapping the black band on the shaft.

"Black means that there is death or a catastrophe."

Spinning the arrow around, he then proceeds to snap the arrowhead off, holding up the remaining shaft.

"A headless arrow means that a Herald has been killed."

He pauses, his gaze passing over the shocked looks of his students. Emma has stopped writing in her notebook, green eyes wide with alarm.

"I know this is not something we like to think about, but the life of a Herald is a dangerous one, even in times of peace. You need to have the Arrow-code memorized by heart, because at some point in your life, you will need it."

With a grim look, Graham snaps the shaft apart into three broken pieces, gently setting them down on the table. Even if he hadn't said a thing, his students would have understood nonetheless.

"A broken arrow means disaster, and that rescue should not be attempted."

* * *

Emma settles her breathing, lips parted as she exhales slowly through her teeth, the worn handle of her rapier familiar in her hands, perfectly formed to the shape of her palm and fingers. She'd proven her talent with the slender weapon and Ruby has since agreed to let her focus on the rapier for her close-range weapon. Her long-range choice continues to be throwing knives, because as much as her mother would like to see her wielding a bow and arrow, she just doesn't have the same affinity for it.

"Tired already?" Baelfire taunts, laughing as he swings his short sword in his hand. Emma's been bumped up to train with older year groups after giving the rest of her yearmates a solid lashing and Baelfire is all too happy to oblige.

"Not even close." Emma dashes forward, her blade clashing with his, pushing the older boy backwards and eating up ground as he goes on the defensive. He's stronger, but Emma has speed and agility, surprisingly graceful on her feet as she dances around him and nicks at his tunic. He stifles a curse and jumps back.

"Are _you_ tired?" she sasses, and he huffs and tries to force her back, succeeding only in getting a good welt to the chest when the dull, rounded end of her weapon jabs him solidly on the pectoral.

"Impatience gets you stabbed, Baelfire," Ruby says with a playful click of her tongue, the boy ducking his head and rubbing at the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. To Emma she says, "Well done. Graceful as a swan, you are. You'll be quite the image in your Whites."

Emma flushes with delight, wiping sweat from her brow and moving to retrieve her water flask from the bench. They're working outside today in the corral next to the training hall and so she doesn't realize Regina is leaning up against the fence and watching her until the brunette's voice breaks her out of her tired, sweaty trance.

"A swan?"

Emma feels her ears heat up. Haven knows why she cares about Regina's opinion, but she does. "So they say."

Regina just looks her up and down—Emma is a little taller, a little lankier, filling out with healthy weight—and chuckles. "Someday, maybe."

Briefly spinning her rapier in hand, Emma puffs up her chest and grins. "Herald Ruby has me sparring with the older year groups. I'm quite good with this weapon."

"The same couldn't be said for your archery," Regina teases, to which Emma looks indignant.

"How would you know?"

"I finished equitations early today and saw you practicing earlier. You're lucky if you hit the target with an arrow at all."

"And you're much better?" she scoffs.

"Best of the group," Ruby interjects as she passes, chuckling at the look of betrayal the little blonde shoots her.

"Well, I can hit a bullseye with a knife," Emma boasts, to which Regina lifts an eyebrow and says, challengingly, "Show me."

Pulling a single throwing knife from where it's lodged in the weapons rack, Emma walks to the starting line of the range and takes aim, feeling Regina's eyes on her back. Zeroing in on the target on the other end of the lane, she pulls her arm back, breathes, and throws.

Her aim is true and the knife hits home, buried an inch deep into the thick wooden target directly into the bullseye. When she turns with a grin, Regina actually looks impressed with her.

"Not bad," she says, before waving and strolling off. Emma just rolls her eyes and watches her go before returning for one more round of embarrassing Baelfire.

* * *

Truth Spell is a specialized magic class and, for the first time since arriving here, it is the first class Emma and Regina have together. The blonde can hardly contain her excitement after having gotten a glimpse of Regina's third term schedule for their second year, and and after lunch she all but drags the older girl with her to the corresponding classroom.

"We actually get to learn magic!" Emma hisses gleefully, tugging Regina closely by the arm. The brunette sighs in exasperation, resisting the great urge to roll her eyes.

"We've been doing magic since we arrived," she huffs. "Mind Speech is magic. Your Empathy is magic. What are you so excited about?"

"This is different," Emma insists, and Regina doesn't bother arguing as they take their seats in the room along with a variety of ages and year groups. Herald August strides in moments after they're all settled and chatting quietly, perching himself on the edge of the desk upfront and smiling his boyish smile. He's no older than thirty, handsome in a rugged sort of way with a head of dark curls and warm, bright blue eyes. It's no wonder the older trainees fawn and swoon over him, though Emma and Regina still wrinkle their noses at the thought, far too young to find anyone romantically appealing.

"Good afternoon, trainees. I'm sure most of you don't recognize me if you were Chosen within the last three years. I'm Herald August, just returned from circuit after three years out in the field, and I'll be teaching your specialized Truth Spell class which will run for four weeks, at which point you'll each do your final exam."

He begins handing out a handful of small, rolled up scrolls, one to each student. Some hold them and wait for instruction, others unroll them immediately to skim over the single line of unfamiliar words. Emma furrows her brow at the strange language—it's in the alphabet she'd learned in her first year, but the words almost sound nonsensical—while Regina scowls at her, yet to unroll her own scroll.

"Feel free," says August, waving his hands at them. The entire class quickly unroll their scrolls and glance at the short, foreign sentence. "That is the incantation for the Truth Spell, which I expect you to have memorized by the end of the week. Now, the spell itself summons what we call a _vrondi_. This air elemental is harmless, but effective. See, when summoned, they manifest into a glowing fog that surrounds the target of our spell. Vrondi cannot stand the emotional reaction caused by telling a lie, so, when a target lies, the vrondi reacts by fading. Let's do a demonstration, shall we? Might I have a volunteer?"

Hands shoot into the air. August calls upon a third year redhead named Ariel and sits her down on a chair at the front of the class, seated sideways and facing him so that they are both easily visible to everyone.

"Excellent. Relax, Ariel, you won't feel a thing." Rubbing his hands together, he flashes the rest of the class a smile. "Now, to cast the spell, I must envision and hold in my mind the image of a wisp of fog with blue eyes. With that image in my mind, I repeat the incantation nine times. On the ninth repetition, I must imagine the wisp of fog surrounding my target. If successfully cast, the vrondi should be visible to everyone—even non Heralds—except for the target themself. Ready?"

At Ariel's nod, he begins the incantation, the short, foreign phrase rolling easily off his tongue. On the ninth repetition, he narrows his eyes at Ariel. A soft, glowing blue mist materializes around her head and shoulders, much to the delight of the class. Their gasps and chuckles make Ariel blink, but she is clearly the only person in the room who cannot see the glowing mist around herself.

"This is called the first stage of the Truth Spell. Should the target speak a lie, the glowing mist will disappear. Ariel, I want you to answer my first question truthfully, and then lie next." When she nods, he asks, "What is your name?"

"Ariel," she replies. The mist remains around her.

"What year group are you in?"

She smiles in amusement and the glowing blue mist begins to fade as she opens her mouth and says, "Fifth year."

By the end of her answer, it's completely disappeared, and it doesn't fade back into view for a few long seconds. The class chitters with excitement.

"Very good. Now, to make things even more fun, we'll try the second stage of the Truth Spell. You simply have to do the entire incantation a second time, thus strengthening the spell." He settles his gaze on Ariel and says the incantation another nine times, then gives an impish little smile. "There. Now, the second stage no longer disappears when a lie is told. Instead, it makes the target physically incapable of speaking with dishonesty. Ariel, try to tell us a lie, hm? In what town or city were you born?"

Ariel seems to think that over a moment, coming up with cities other than her own, and opens her mouth. The class holds their breath, almost expecting her to answer, but all that comes out is a tiny exhale of air. "I come from—... I'm from—... Ah…" She frowns, lips moving and throat working, but nothing comes out other than a frustrated huff when her efforts are in vain.

"Strange, isn't it?" August says, eyes crinkled in amusement. "The second stage of the Truth Spell is very useful, but not all Heralds are strong enough with that Gift to use it. Every Herald can cast the first stage, however."

He looks to Ariel again. "To close the spell, simply imagine the fog dissipating." It fades away and he promptly thanks Ariel before sending her back to her seat. "Let's partner up and give it a try, shall we? Please pair up with the classmate closest to you."

Emma can already see a few nearby classmates turning towards her—the pretty blonde princess, of course—and quickly snatches Regina's wrist, already pulling the brunette aside.

"Careful, one might think that you didn't want to make friends," Regina says with an arch of her brow. Emma huffs and settles down in a chair in front of her, straddling it backwards.

"I don't need friends, I have Bug and Bae and you."

"We're hardly enough," Regina mutters, but Emma is already glaring at her and repeating the incantation. Not one to be outdone, Regina does the same, the words less awkward on her tongue than Emma's, but effective enough all the same. She can see the blue fog appearing around the blonde's head just as Emma can see it on Regina.

"Tell me your name," says Regina.

"Swan." The fog fades from around Emma's head. "Tell me where you're from."

"Valdemar." The fog fades from Regina. "The name of your Companion?"

"Pan." Just as the fog had reappeared, it fades again. "A truth now. Where are you from?"

Regina scowls as the fog reappears around her. "Karse." It remains a steady, glowing blue as she narrows her eyes, considering her next question. "A truth for a truth. Why are you so afraid of making new friends?"

"I'm not afraid," Emma argues, and the fog around her fades.

"You're lying. What are you so afraid of?"

"You already asked your question."

"That hardly—"

"Well done," August notes, strolling by their shared table as the girls scowl at each other. "I didn't mean for you to do it on each other at the same time, but well done nonetheless. Alright, everyone, close the spell and swap partners please, let's go around the room."

Grudgingly, they end the spell on each other. Emma stands briskly, her chair scraping the floor with a screech as she storms off and grabs Ariel for a partner. Agitated, Regina looks around the room. The other trainees latch onto each other and no one meets her eye until the one girl left without a partner shuffles over to Regina with an awkward but polite smile.

"Hullo," she says, sitting in front of her, and Regina just sighs and begins the spell.

They rotate again and again, finding that the amount of focus and concentration they have to use varies slightly for each classmate. Most of Regina's partners greet her awkwardly, or just politely nod and begin the exercise, but one boy frowns suspiciously at her as he takes a seat and starts the spell on her without prompt.

He does it a second time and Regina grits her teeth, startled that he would try to cast the second stage on her. She doesn't know if his Gift is strong enough for it to work, but she supposes she's about to find out.

"What's your name?" he asks, the most basic of questions. She decides to test him now and opens her mouth to say Mercy's name instead.

"I'm—" the words stick in her throat quite suddenly, air that refuses to sound out the word her lips are forming. It's the strangest feeling, and she fights it for only a moment before grudgingly relenting. "Regina."

Triumph gleams in his eyes at her momentary struggle. "Where are you from?"

She meets his gaze steadily, chin tilted up, refusing to be played. "Karse."

At the haughtily-announced name of the once-hostile kingdom, several heads turn in their direction, their gazes somewhat concerned at the way Regina and the boy glare at each other.

"Which Companion Chose you?"

"Mercy."

:: _Regina, you don't need to answer him,_ :: Mercy murmurs.

"You sure you didn't just steal her?"

"No!" Regina hisses, appalled at the very idea. Emma is staring at them from across the room now, eyes blazing and lips pursed in a tight line. _I don't need you to defend me_ echoes in her mind and stops her from jumping out of her seat to intervene.

"Thomas," August warns the boy, moving towards them from where he'd been perched at his desk. Thomas scowls and points a finger at Regina.

"She's a Karsite, how could she have been Chosen?"

"We don't question the Companions—"

"Say that again," Regina warns, standing to tower over him, only for Thomas to shoot out of his seat and tower over her instead, his chest expanded and his glare suspicious.

August sets a hand on Thomas's shoulder, trying to gently push him back. "Stop it."

"She hates all of us, it's obvious," Thomas snaps, ignoring the Herald's quelling look. "And the only person she talks to is the princess. She doesn't let anyone get near her and now the princess ignores the rest of us too. Doesn't anyone else see how suspicious that is?"

Emma is seething in silence, nothing more than 'the princess' to this boy, and Regina looks a fraction away from murderous rage.

"You're just manipulating our princess like the Karsite spy you are," Thomas snarls in Regina's face even as August tries to shove an arm between them and pull the boy away.

"You take that back!" Regina snaps, her entire body as taut as a bow. Emma slowly stands from her seat, an irritable itching sensation at the back of her skull prompting her to move towards her friend.

"Admit it! You're a Karsite spy!" Thomas shouts again. When Regina grits her teeth and shoves him, he shoves her back even harder. August snaps at them both to stop, bodily forcing himself between them as a buffer.

:: _Emma?_ :: Bug's presence in her mind is worried and restless. Mercy is just as concerned, murmuring placations into Regina's mind to little avail as the young brunette clenches her fists and nearly quivers in place, body tense with fury.

"I'm not a spy!" she shouts, bitter anger coloring her voice, her eyes welling with unwanted tears.

"Then leave the princess alone," Thomas snarls. "You're just going to hurt her!"

"I would never hurt her!" Something feral and dark flickers through her eyes. Emma sees it and moves towards her, fear blossoming in her chest for reasons unknown to her.

"You will because you're the enemy!"

"I'm _not!_ "

And then she sets the air on fire.

There's a flood of panic from Mercy, who immediately alerts Rolan and Blanche so that they can call for their Heralds. Bug feels a flare of fear from Emma and can do nothing but pace the grounds just outside the building, tail lashing anxiously.

"Get back!" August shouts, sweeping students out of the room and hauling Thomas by the scruff of his tunic. He all but throws him out the door, yelling "Get Herald David!" at him before turning back for the remaining students. The others flee without preamble, ducking away from the bursts of flames swirling around Regina in a fierce circle. Emma is the only one who remains, standing just outside of the flames with a pinched look on her face. She is leagues away from having her father's skill and control over her Empathy, but she has to try.

"Regina!" she calls out, wincing and jerking back as the flames lick at her shirt. August moves to pull her from the room but she slaps his hands away and gives him a warning glare. "Regina, control it!"

"I— I can't," Regina cries, panic in her wide eyes. She may have caused the flames, but they're clearly hurting her, singeing at her clothes and hair. "I didn't mean to!"

"I know." Emma reaches out tentatively with her Gift, opening herself up to Regina's emotions. She's immediately bombarded with the other girl's sheer terror and has to fight to blanket it with something calmer.

: _Bug?_ :

:: _I'm right here, dearheart. You can do this._ ::

She can feel his presence, adding his control to hers. A calm and reassuring warmth settles into her bones and she reaches out a hand, ignoring the painful lick of the flames against her wrist and forearm as she catches Regina's panicked eyes.

"Give me your hand."

"Emma, no, the fire—" Regina stares at the angry pink flesh of Emma's hand and arm, worsening the longer she holds it through the fiery barrier. She's starting to suffer burns too, wincing every time a spark lands on her skin, but all she can focus on is the wound on Emma. "Get away from me!"

"Give me your hand and let me help you, Regina," Emma insists, fingers splayed, palm up. Her green eyes shine with something familiar and comforting. "Trust me."

Instinctively, unable to resist the pleading tone in her voice, Regina closes the distance and settles her hand in Emma's. Emma's Gift washes over her at the first touch of skin contact, a wave of relief and reassurance that extinguishes the flames in the blink of an eye, leaving the room suddenly feeling many degrees cooler. Blinking, she slowly lets loose the shaky breath that she'd held in her lungs. Tears sting at her eyes, not from the pain of her new burns but because it turns out she has a Gift—a dangerous and frightening one. And she's done exactly what she said she wouldn't; hurt Emma.

"It's okay," Emma whispers, gently pulling her closer when she can feel Regina sway. "I've got you."

The tears overflow and Regina cries, sinking into Emma's embrace as the younger girl murmurs soft words of comfort and strokes her dark hair with her free hand. August just stands there and stares, mouth agape, the girls clinging tightly to each other despite their injuries, and that's how David and Queen Snow find them seconds later when they rush into the room.

* * *

Emma has only been reunited with her parents for a year and a half but she knows they're wrapped around her finger, so when she refuses to be separated from Regina at the healer's behest, Snow relents without much of a fight. David stays with them to keep Regina's emotions under control if necessary while Snow goes to speak with Dean Archibald.

They're seated in the same room in the Healers Collegium, their beds pushed together so that they can sit side by side. The current Head Healer, a woman by the name of Isabeau Blucard—nicknamed Blue—is huffing and clicking her tongue as she tends to their burns. She, like the other healers scurrying around working, wears a deep green uniform, while their trainee assistant healers wear pale green.

"You are the princess, you need to be more careful when it comes to your own safety," Blue continues to scold, her hands gently making their way across Emma's skin as she mends the tight, burned flesh under her healing touch. Another healer works on Regina's injuries with a stony frown. Emma and Regina sit in silence, heads down and lips pursed, never deigning to answer the uppity woman.

A ruckus of voices coming down the hall alerts them to Snow's arrival, bursting into the room in a flurry of white robes with Dean Archibald, Lord Joaidane, and a tall blonde woman.

"Emma, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" Snow asks, immediately moving to Emma's bedside. The Dean moves to Regina's side to do the same.

"I'm fine," Emma murmurs, tensing up when she notices Snow eyeing Regina with wary concern. She reaches out to clasp Regina's hand with a comforting squeeze, feeling the other girl pull away feebly before giving in and squeezing back. Snow frowns.

"Regina," she says, waiting until Regina peers up anxiously at her through her lashes before continuing, one hand motioning towards the tall blonde standing nearby. "This is Herald Mal. She's the only other Herald with your… unique Gift. She'll be mentoring you after your normal classes every day until you have your Gift safely under control."

Regina turns her head, wearily examining the woman. She's tall and lithe with wild blonde curls and smokey gray eyes, standing tall and confident in her fitted Whites. Mal smiles wryly and twinkles her fingers in greeting. "Hello."

Regina just nods her head a little awkwardly, her hand tightening on Emma's. Mal blinks at them and turns back to Snow. "Snow, dear, I need to speak with you outside for a moment." She motions towards David and Archibald too. The men frown and nod, following the women outside and making sure to shut the door behind them. Joaidane stays behind to give Emma a wry, reassuring little smile.

Emma and Regina exchange a small, uncertain glance, but otherwise remain silent.

* * *

"She's friends with your daughter?" Mal asks as soon as they're further down the hall. Snow sighs, her shoulders slumping.

"It seems so. Emma has been… quite introverted. From what her teachers tell me, she doesn't spend any time with anyone other than Regina and Baelfire."

"I hope you understand my intentions when I say that they should be kept apart while I train the girl," says Mal, a frown marring her sharp, pretty features.

"To keep Emma safe," says Snow. Mal nods.

"It's too much of a risk to let the future heir spend time around her when Regina could potentially hurt her."

"They are so close, though," says David, grimacing. "Best of friends. Emma was the one who calmed Regina in the first place. Would it really be wise to separate them?"

"The ramifications for keeping them apart may be worse than the risk of letting them stay together," Archibald adds tentatively. Mal scoffs at the lot of them, lips turning up into a sneer.

"Must I remind you of what happens when a Firestarter loses control? Have you forgotten how dangerous this Gift is?"

The others wince, gazes dropping. They remember all too well; they'd all been younger, more spry, out on circuit at the same time, gathering in the same location when their Companions—who had much farther telepathic ranges with other Companions—realized there had been a small battle happening in a nearby town between citizens and a gang of bandits. With the Companions coordinating them through Mindspeech, they had flanked the enemy and drove them from the town, chasing them into the woods in an attempt to capture them.

Killing was always the last resort, especially for a young Mal who knew her Gift was nothing but destructive and so was intent on keeping her hands clean of blood. A poor decision and lack of experience, however, had her knocked off her Companion Ember and pinned down by a bandit. Ember had slid down a ravine and had been struggling to climb back up when Herald Faisal and his Companion rushed in to help Mal. In her sudden terror at being pinned down with a blade to her throat, however, Mal had lost control of her Gift, decimating an entire chunk of the woods with a fiery inferno. Faisal died almost immediately in that fire, and though his Companion might have survived his wounds, the loss of his Herald was too great and he, too, died shortly after.

David, Archibald, and a handful of other Heralds who had been in the area and had joined in the chase were the ones who found Mal and Ember mourning over the bodies of Faisal and his Companion that day, devastation clear on their faces. Weeks later, after returning to Haven to recover and to mourn the loss of her lover, a healer proclaimed Mal to be pregnant. Young Lily was raised in the Collegium with vague non-answers about her mysterious but brave father who died in the line of duty, never knowing that it was her own mother who had tragically caused his death.

"It's for the best," Mal says now, her voice quiet and sullen. "There was no Firestarter to teach me. I had to learn myself—the hard way. I won't let the same thing happen to her."

"I understand," Snow says softly, reaching out to give Mal's hand a squeeze. The blonde gives a short, curt nod.

"Tell them what you must. Regina's lessons start tomorrow." With that, the blonde is gone, sweeping down the hall and out of sight. Snow stares after her friend and colleague with a sigh, shoulders slumping as David settles a hand on her back. Archibald turns to look at them both with a look akin to a kicked puppy.

"It's only temporary," David says with gentle optimism. "It's only until Regina learns proper control. Perhaps some time apart will be good for them?"

* * *

It isn't. Emma sulks and Regina grows ever distant, neither girls allowed to spend any amount of time together. Emma is moved into her own private suite in the Royal Palace, close enough to her parents' chambers that she sees them far more often and almost never sees Regina anymore except from across the Common Room during meals. Every Herald currently living at the Collegium—teachers and those taking a break from circuits alike—have been told to make sure the girls stay away from each other, and there are more guards positioned around every building to keep an eye on them when they're not in classes.

"It is only temporary," Joaidane offers one day, when he visits the palace to find Emma moping about. "Why don't you spend time with your other friend in the meantime? Baelfire, wasn't it?"

Bug and Mercy try their best to bolster their spirits, but it's clear to them that their Chosen need each other and they try to appeal to Rolan and Blanche.

:: _Emma is the one who can help ground Regina!_ :: Bug insists to the older Grove-born one afternoon, trailing after the other stallion even as Rolan lashes his tail in frustration.

:: _Regina will have to learn to ground herself. She is a danger to herself and others, and nothing is worth risking the princess's life._ ::

:: _Surely they can be allowed supervised interactions?_ :: Mercy tries one day, when Blanche is grazing nearby and looks to be in an agreeable mood. The other mare immediately tenses up and huffs indignantly through her nostrils.

:: _Absolutely not. Emma's safety is our top priority. Your Chosen will simply have to master her Gift first. Firestarting is dangerous and should not be underestimated._ ::

After weeks of little success, the two younger Companions decided to take matters into their own hands and make subtle suggestions to their young Chosen about ways to communicate without getting into trouble, which is why one Saturday morning finds Emma sitting quietly in an empty classroom with a book open in her lap. One of the Herald teachers had passed by earlier to peek in on her and seemed happy to see her studying, thus leaving her to her own devices. Just outside the building, Regina sits on the grass with her back against the stone walls, a book open in her own lap as she hangs her head and pretends to be engrossed in reading.

: _Emma?_ : she thinks experimentally, wondering how far her Mindspeech can reach. Hers isn't nearly as strong as Emma's, thus she has less range. She'd tried calling out to the blonde from the girls dorm once, but evidently, the Royal Palace was too far.

: _Regina!_ : Emma's Mindvoice exclaims, joy evident in her tone and loud enough that Regina actually cringes. Not only does she receive Emma's Mindvoice, however; she also gets blasted with a feeling of great happiness and relief, no doubt the blonde's Gift of Empathy.

: _You're projecting, Emma. And yelling._ :

: _Sorry! I'm just excited. We haven't spoken in almost four months._ : A wave of disappointment and loneliness washes over Regina, who shivers and shakes it off with a frown.

: _Why do you feel so lonely?_ :

The feelings recede almost immediately, Emma blushing and concentrating to rein in her Empathy. Regina has already felt her emotions, however, and continues to prod.

: _Haven't you spent time with Baelfire and Bug?_ :

: _It's not the same,_ : Emma responds despondently, but it lasts only a moment before she forges ahead to find out what the brunette has been up to all this time. : _How are your lessons with Herald Mal going?_ :

: _Fine._ :

: _Fine? That's all?_ :

: _... I can make fireballs appear in my hands._ :

: _Wow!_ :

: _How are your lessons with your father?_ :

: _They're alright. I've gotten very good at grounding and shielding myself from unintentionally reading other people's emotions. He says I still project too easily though._ :

: _Indeed. Seems I'm not the only one who needs to learn to control my Gift._ : Regina's tone is amused, even vaguely fond. Emma lets loose another little burst of joy before pulling her Gift back in again.

: _Have you made any new friends?_ : she inquires after a moment, careful to ground her emotions instead of letting Regina feel the little flare of jealousy stirring within her chest. It isn't fair that she's the only person who's not allowed to be near Regina. She's her best friend, for Haven's sake, regardless of how odd their friendship might seem to everyone else.

: _Have you?_ : Regina counters.

: _No,_ : is Emma's almost petulant sounding reply. After a moment, Regina takes pity on her.

: _Me neither._ :

Emma settles, resting her head on her arms atop the table and letting her eyes fall shut in relaxation. She and Regina don't say much else, simply sitting in quiet content and sensing the other just on the other side of a wall, and for now, it's enough.

* * *

"Teach me."

Emma is stubborn, much like her mother. David's eyes soften as he takes in her stance: feet apart, arms crossed, jaw locked. She looks so much like a blonde version of Snow when she was about her age, a fierce little spitfire of a trainee.

"Your lessons are already going well, Emma," he reasons, shifting atop the desk that he sits perched on. "Even if you try to improve your own Gift faster, it is still up to Regina to learn to control her Firestarting. You cannot rely solely on your Empathy to help her."

"But it would help, wouldn't it?" she insists. He sighs and scratches at his head.

"It doesn't change the fact that she's not safe for you to be around right now…"

"Father, please," Emma pleads, and maybe it's the tears gleaming in her eyes, or maybe it's because it's the first time she's ever called him 'father', but David relents that day and begins training her every single day after her classes.

* * *

Emma is despondent and agitated after a frustrating week when Snow peeks in on her one evening. The blonde is sitting curled up against the headboard of her bed, clutching her baby blanket to her chest as she stares blankly across the room, thoughts scattered and mouth pursed into a grim line. Her fingers dig into the cream-white wool, wearing away at the little patches where mistakes have been made. She doesn't even notice her mother's presence until the Queen speaks up from where she stands in the doorway.

"It took me four months to knit that."

Emma's head jerks up in surprise but she says nothing, her gaze confused but curious as her mother slowly wanders into the bedroom. They haven't quite made eye contact, Snow's gaze on the baby blanket, her expression soft and thoughtful.

"I pestered Granny for weeks before that, begging her to teach me how to knit until she finally grew tired of my requests and gave in. She's a wonderful teacher, mind you, but I've never been very good at anything remotely artistic. There are more mistakes in that than you could count."

When Emma doesn't react negatively, Snow gently perches herself on the edge of the bed, a hand reaching out to stroke the corner of blanket she can reach. Her fingers find a mismatched stitch in the wool and her lips quirk into a smile.

"This was one of the first stitches I'd done wrong, but I was so embarrassed that I didn't dare ask Granny to help me fix it, so I just continued on and hoped it wouldn't be too noticeable."

Emma's lip twitches into a small smile of amusement. Moving farther along the blanket, Snow comes across another incorrect stitch.

"This one—your father kept distracting me with questions about the crib he was attempting to carve for you, and by the time I realized I'd missed a stitch, it was too late to go back. He'd given himself eight splinters before finally asking Herald August for help, admitting that he was a terrible woodworker."

Emma grins at that. At the third mistake, in which there is a random knot in the wool that juts out a little, Snow chuckles under her breath.

"This one, well... I was in the nursery, knitting in the rocking chair and keeping an eye on your father while he tried to hang up a mobile. He's a talented warrior but he's quite clumsy at anything else. He dropped it and one of the glass unicorns shattered on the floor. I thought he'd hurt himself and dropped what I was doing to check on him. When I came back, one of the knitting needles had fallen out and I had to tie the yarn to try to keep it in place."

She shakes her head, smiling fondly as she remembers how frustrated she'd been with David at the time, her hormones turning her into an angry, blubbering mess until David finally calmed her with kisses and placating words. As her hand continues along the blanket, of which Emma has been feeding towards her at this point, she pauses over a small tear in the wool. It had been a larger rip when Graham first brought it back, but she'd done what she could to patch it.

"Oh," Emma says softly, ducking her head with a grimace. "That was..."

She peers up and finds her mother watching her, expression not angry, but open and accepting. After a moment of chewing her lip, Emma runs her fingers over the imperfection.

"Liam and Smee had been... They kept talking about how I was stupid and useless, and that no one wanted me, that my own parents didn't want me..." Snow's shoulders sag and Emma doesn't dare look at her again, just continues worrying away at the little tear in the blanket. "I was angry and upset that night, and I pulled on my blanket too hard, and..."

Her lips wobble, pressing together as tears fill her eyes again, the memories and emotions of that night coming back as clear as day. She remembers the ache in her chest as she'd curled up in her filthy little pile of blankets in the closet they'd deemed 'her room,' the way her lungs seemed to hurt with every choked sob, her entire torso crushed by the weight of being unwanted by the only two people in the world who should have wanted her. Her voice comes out hoarse and tight.

"And I just kept thinking that maybe they were right, maybe I wasn't good enough and maybe that's why my parents threw me away. I thought... I thought I didn't matter, and didn't think I ever would, and I used to cry myself to sleep every night because I just—" her voice cracks, her words thickening with tears. " _I wanted my parents so bad, and I didn't understand why they would throw me away_."

She chokes out a sob, tears spilling over her cheeks as her hands fist the blanket. Snow's hands cover hers with a firm squeeze and they just sit there together for the longest time, crying softly, hands clutched together. Emma's chest aches with a fresh onslaught of grief but it's lighter, somehow, the pain more of a relief than a smothering heaviness. Snow, too, sags in place, the tension leaving her shoulders as her tears run in thick rivulets down her jaw and soak her tunic.

" _I'm so sorry, Emma,_ " she whispers brokenly, knowing she can never say it enough, can never make up for the past. Emma's fingers tighten in hers and, though she does not move to embrace her, she says her next words with the softness of acceptance and forgiveness.

"I know."

* * *

In their third year, Baelfire leaves for his internship. Emma stands with a crowd of others—Heralds, trainees, Joaidane, even Snow who hovers at her side with a comforting hand on her shoulder—to send him off, looking despondent and two seconds away from crying. Baelfire grins and leans sideways off of Pan's saddle to ruffle her hair, getting an aggravated scowl out of the fourteen year old blonde.

"Come on, don't be like that," he says with a laugh. He's seventeen, a little older than most in his year group and already growing quite the scruff of hair on his chin. Emma sends him a watery glare and his expression softens just for her. "She'll master her Gift eventually, and I'll only be away for a year and some, no more than two."

"But I'll be alone in the meantime," she grouses. She can almost feel Bug pouting, but she knows he isn't taking it personally. Companions are—in spirit—their other half, but it's not the same thing as human companionship.

"What have I said, Emma? You're never alone." He holds something out to her in his fist. Frowning, Emma opens her palm under his and feels something drop into her hand.

"For you. Regina and I pooled our allowances together and I got it from the market down in East Haven. We're always with you."

Emma closes her fingers around it as Pan stomps his hooves with impatience and begins shifting away, Baelfire grabbing onto the pommel to keep his balance. "Be safe, Bae."

"Always am, little swan." He smiles that boyish smile of his, saluting her before he and Pan take off after their mentors, Herald Graham and his Companion Hunter. He rides past the stables on their way out of the Collegium grounds and he sees Regina and Mercy there, the brunette nodding her goodbye to him. He nods back, and then he's gone, not to return for a year.

* * *

Lily returns from her internship only months after Baelfire's departure, shortly followed by her yearmate Jefferson. They both get outstanding reviews from the Heralds they'd gone on circuit with and are promoted to full Herald status within the week.

The brunette girl—a young woman now, really—looks mature and beautiful in her new White uniform, and Emma stands gaping in the Field when Lily and Drogo first approach her again after her return.

"Hello, Emma." Lily's grinning, proud and cocky in that confident way of hers, chin tilted up as she sets her hands on her hips in her crisp new Whites. Drogo has his head held high, too, but immediately looks shy and flustered when Bug canters over to join them.

"Herald Lily," Emma greets with a laugh, shaking her head at how strange that sounds. Lily was already a good five or six years ahead of her when they first met, but she looks even older now, wiser and more worldly for her nineteen years. Emma supposes that is to be expected—the brunette has traveled all across Valdemar by now.

"Goodness, has it already been almost two years? You've grown. How are you? Where is your friend? Regina, wasn't it?"

"We aren't allowed to be around each other anymore," Emma huffs, her mood souring. It's been a year since she and Regina have been close together, only able to sneak the occasional moments together from opposite sides of a wall or from in adjacent rooms, and only ever able to communicate through telepathy. Mindspeech has been a decent enough alternative but it's not the same as actually talking, and Emma misses the sound of Regina's high, haughty voice. Snow continues to remain optimistic, reminding her that it's only temporary and that she has no doubt they'll be ready to reunite soon, and though Emma appreciates her sympathetic support, it doesn't make life any easier in the meantime.

"Well why not?" Lily asks, expression scrunching. She remembers seeing the two of them together and _knowing_ that the girls had been the best of friends in their own strange, unique way. There had just been something balanced and _right_ about them.

"She's a Firestarter, and no one trusts her to be near me until she can perfectly control her Gift."

Lily's brows shoot up into her hairline. "A Firestarter? Is she being trained by Herald Mal?"

"Yes," Emma answers, confused by the grin slowly stretching across Lily's face. The older girl grabs her wrist and pulls her along, leaving Bug and Drogo alone to poke and pester each other with little whickers of laughter. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Lily says, while dashing through the stables and coming to a halt in front of a familiar stall. Greeting the mare that loops her head out, she asks, "Hello, Ember. Do you know where my mother is right now?"

The Companion presses her velvety nose into Lily's chest in greeting and replies cheerfully enough, and soon Lily is dragging Emma off again, pulling her into the Heraldic Collegium and down a few corridors until they're moving towards the farthest and sometimes unused classrooms. Emma doesn't know what's going on until they suddenly burst into a drafty room made of stone and they're standing face to face with Herald Mal and Regina.

"Hello, mother," Lily greets happily, moving forward to hug the older blonde Herald. Mal is, as always, immensely pleased to receive affection from her daughter, but her smokey gray eyes never leave Emma where the girl stands frozen by the door.

"Lily, darling, I'm afraid I must ask your friend to leave—"

"Oh, for Haven's sake, let the girls catch up, mother," Lily huffs with a little roll of her eyes. "Regina surely isn't in any danger of having a panic attack and setting this room on fire, is she?"

To her credit, Regina mutely shakes her head, eyes wide. Mal sighs heavily, unable to stress to her daughter about the true dangers of the Firestarting Gift without revealing the long kept secret of having killed Lily's father. Instead, she gives Emma and Regina a warning look.

"Fine, a few minutes to talk. Don't go anywhere."

Lily grabs her mother's arm and tugs her to the other side of the room to give the girls some semblance of privacy. Looking like a deer in headlights, Emma swallows down the lump in her throat and squeaks out, "Hi."

"Hi," Regina breathes back. Both go quiet, taking in the subtle changes that they'd missed out on in the past year. Emma is taller, more filled out, her chin a little sharper and her face losing its baby fat. Regina's posture is more regal, her eyes wiser, her voice a little deeper, losing its high, youthful tones.

"I didn't see you when Bae left for his internship." It's not an accusation, just an observation. Baelfire is their only real mutual friend, after all, even if Regina tends to grumble and pretend that she doesn't like him.

"I was by the stables," Regina murmurs, blinking. "I saw him off."

Her eyes flicker down, attention caught by the silver pendant resting between Emma's collarbones, the tiny swan engraving glinting in the torchlight. Brown eyes soften and her lip twitches upwards ever so slightly. "You're wearing it."

"I always wear it," Emma murmurs, instinctively lifting a hand to touch the pendant. She is never without it now, always keeping it close to her heart as a reminder of her two closest friends. After a moment of debating and opening and closing her mouth, she seems to settle on a question.

"How much longer?" she asks, green eyes soaking in every detail like a dehydrated person guzzling down water. Regina gives her the same treatment, committing the blonde's appearance to memory, not knowing when they will be able to stand so close to each other again.

"I don't know," she admits softly, posture slumping ever so slightly. "Soon, I hope. I'm trying my best."

Emma nods in understanding. "One day." Then, a little quieter, "I miss you."

"Regina," says Mal, clearing her throat and moving towards the girls again. "It's time to get back to your training." To Emma she says, "Off you go now, Princess."

Smiling sadly in Regina's direction, Emma trails after Lily towards the door. Before she leaves, Regina calls out quickly, "I do too."

Emma's smile brightens enough to light up the entire room, and when she's gone, Mal looks at Regina and sighs with sympathy before continuing their training without another word.

* * *

It's when they finish their third year and have a month of break before fourth year that Herald Mal—somewhat grudgingly—declares Regina safe for Emma to be around.

"Her control is impeccable," she tells Snow when the Queen is understandably concerned about allowing her daughter anywhere near the young Firestarter. "I've never seen a trainee ground and shield their minds so quickly and efficiently. I think, so long as Emma's Empathy is well trained, they could be quite effective as a team."

"She is," David cuts in, his tone eager and proud. "I've been working with her almost every day. Her Empathy is powerful and her control nearly rivals mine."

"We're absolutely certain?" Snow asks, brows knitting together. She knows that this will mean the world to Emma—her daughter has been despondent without her best friend by her side—but she wants to be sure that both girls will be safe.

"Being around a Firestarter will always have its risks," Mal relents, making a vague motion towards herself with a wry smile, "but I believe that—should Regina ever be forced into a situation that throws her control—Emma is one of the few people who could bring her back from the edge."

Her gray eyes momentarily go distant, wondering what her life might have become had she had someone who could have stopped her meltdown. Regina has so much more of a support system and she wants to make sure the girl uses it to avoid making the same mistakes.

"Well, alright then," Snow breathes out, sinking down into her chair a little and looking as if another weight has been removed from her shoulders. "Emma has been so unhappy this past year. I'm glad we can safely allow them to be together again."

"They do make the best of friends, don't they?" David says, chuckling slightly and leaning over to give his wife's shoulder a soft squeeze. "Why don't you go tell her now, my love?"

She smiles softly at him and stands, grateful for the reprieve. She leaves him and Mal to chat, making her way down the corridors of the Royal Palace to Emma's suite. It's Sunday and Emma had retreated to her room to do some leisurely reading after lunch, so she figures her daughter will still be there.

"Emma, sweetheart?" she calls out, knocking briskly. A muffled invitation is heard, so she lets herself in and finds her daughter lying belly-down on the bed, face half pressed into the sheets, a novel held in front of her where she can still read from her stretched out position.

"Hullo, mother," Emma greets kindly, still muffled against the sheets. Snow sits on the edge of the bed and prods the blonde until she sits up and faces her. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no. I have good news, actually." Snow waits a breath, watching the curiosity on Emma's features. "I just spoke with Herald Mal. Regina has completed her training."

Emma blinks, once, twice. "You mean…"

Snow smiles. "You and Regina are free to spend time together again."

She knows this will make Emma happy, but she is still caught by surprise when Emma throws herself into her arms with a little shriek of joy, clinging to her in a tight hug that has Snow burying her nose into blonde hair and resisting the urge to cry.

"I love you, sweetheart," she murmurs, pressing kisses to Emma's head. She knows she won't hear it back, Emma hasn't said them yet and likely won't for a long time, but the way Emma squeezes her even tighter is enough.

"Can I go?" Emma asks, looking up at her with bright, hopeful green eyes, and Snow just smiles and nods, dabbing away the wetness from the inner corners of her eyes once Emma has thrown on a gray coat and bolted out the Palace. David enters shortly after, joining Snow on the edge of Emma's bed and gently pulling her into his side.

"She has your smile," he says after a moment, savouring the crinkled eyes and the wide, dimpled smile Emma had sported when she'd dashed by him. Snow just laughs and buries her face into his shoulder.

* * *

A lot can change in a year and a half. Some things, however, stay the same. Emma sees Regina first, green eyes tracking the brunette as the older girl exits the library with a stack of books in her arms. She's standing in the middle of the corridor like a poorly placed tree when Regina finally looks up at the obstacle in her path and nearly drops everything in her arms in surprise.

"Hi," Emma says, a lopsided grin slowly spreading across her cheeks.

"Hi," Regina breathes back, disbelief on her face.

Both their voices are lower, a little deeper with the onset of puberty. They're taller, Emma more so, having shot up like a weed and standing almost two inches above Regina. Emma's fifteen and filling out with muscle, tanned gold from the sun and sporting new scars from her dedication to weapons training, while Regina is sixteen and all maturing curves and toned leanness, already top of every class in equitations and nearly unmatched with a bow.

Suffice to say, they drink each other in with greedy stares, absorbing every new feature and taking note of old ones.

Emma breaks the silence with a shout of joy before promptly launching herself at Regina, causing the older—but slightly shorter—girl to drop her books to the floor in a resounding clatter.

"I missed you!" Emma cries, squeezing Regina with the kind of childish enthusiasm she hasn't shown very often at all. It's the only reason Regina doesn't shove her off immediately, tensing up but allowing the moment of affection. When Emma does not let go, Regina tentatively hugs her back, arms looping loosely around the blonde's waist. She can feel the eyes of a few other trainees in the hallway staring at them but adamantly ignores it.

"We spoke every other day," she points out mildly, amused, inhaling the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla that she's come to associate with the younger girl. The scent is stronger now, more concise, and Regina melts into the warm embrace. Similarly, Emma buries her nose against the side of Regina's head, breathing deeply of spiced apples and dark cocoa.

"It's not the same," Emma mutters, squeezing her just a little tighter. Regina sighs and gently pats at her shoulder blades, signaling for her to let go.

"I know, dear... I missed you too."

"Dear?" Emma releases her and steps back, wrinkling her nose. Regina has the decency to blush.

"Mal always says that. I guess I picked it up."

"Lily doesn't call anyone _dear_ ," Emma points out about Mal's own daughter, frowning. She's not sure how she feels about Regina picking up new habits from the older Herald.

"You spend time with Lily?" Similarly, something tinges Regina's voice, her brows furrowing together. Emma clears her throat and toes at the ground with the tip of her hide boots.

"She's my friend."

"I thought you didn't make any new friends," Regina says, her tone almost accusing, chest tightening with something akin to betrayal. Emma's eyes flash and she scowls.

"I thought you didn't either. When did you start calling Herald Mal by just her first name?"

"She's been training me every day for more than a year, of course I would become familiar with her," Regina argues.

"And I haven't had a friend for most of that time! So what if I'm friends with Lily now?" Emma snaps, tears suddenly prickling at the corners of her eyes. She looks stung and frustrated, and Regina immediately backs down, guilt swirling in those dark eyes.

"Emma, I'm sorry," she sighs out, shoulders slumping. "I'm glad you had Lily to keep you company. I'm just not used to—"

She breaks off and Emma frowns at her, curiosity peaked by the slight waver in Regina's voice. "Not used to what?"

Reluctant, Regina mutters, "Sharing you."

Her cheeks turn a bright pink, eyes downcast with embarrassment. When Emma doesn't respond right away, she looks up to see a grin spreading across the blonde's lips.

"What?" she huffs, blushing hotter.

"You never need to share me," Emma says. "I'm _your_ best friend."

The brunette swallows audibly, then scoffs and squats down to retrieve her fallen books, face pink and eyes averted. "How presumptuous of you."

Emma kneels to help her, smiling that bright, dimpled smile of hers that shows no inclination of disappearing anytime soon. "It's not presumptuous if it's true."

Regina snorts and reaches for the books Emma hands over, their fingers brushing as the tomes are exchanged. If either feel the little zap of static between them, neither say a word, simply moving together towards the door to the Companions Field in an agreeable silence as if they had never been apart at all.

* * *

"Slow down!"

"Where are your wings, little swan? Hurry up!"

Regina's laughter is warm and bright, her braid whipping behind her as she and Mercy speed over the sprawling hills of Companions Field and out of sight. Emma clutches tighter to Bug's saddle and grumbles under her breath as they give chase.

: _Bug, come on! We can't lose to them!_ : she thinks grudgingly. Bug's response is a wave of mirth and exasperation.

:: _We can and we likely will, dearheart. Have you not heard? Regina and Mercy may very well be the fastest the Collegium has seen in decades!_ ::

They crest the hill and thunder down the other side to find Mercy already stopped and standing dainty by the pond, Regina having shifted into a side-saddle position with one leg crossed over the other, her smile smug.

"Gods, you're too fast," Emma pants, struggling off her saddle and nearly collapsing next to her Companion. Bug's head swinging around to catch her stumble is the only reason she doesn't end up on the ground. Regina's dismount is far smoother and she steps over to give Emma's shoulder a playful shove while Bug and Mercy meander over to the pond for a drink.

"Or perhaps you're just slow," the brunette teases, brushing stray strands of damp hair from her forehead, though she looks far less harried compared to the sweaty chaos that is Emma's blonde locks. "My, you're looking a little ragged there, Princess."

Emma punches the older girl on the arm and Regina quickly dances out of reach, her toothy smile a bright white against her olive skin, tanner now than before thanks to her many long hours in the sun.

"Afternoon!" a familiar voice calls out, and both girls turn to find Lily plodding towards them in her now-usual White uniform, matching the gleaming white coat of Drogo as the stallion plods next to her.

"Hullo, Lily," Emma says with a lopsided grin, and Regina can't quite rid herself of that little twinge of jealousy that has lodged itself in her chest every time Emma so much as mentions the older girl.

"Herald Lily," is the frosty greeting she manages to force out.

"I hope you two've been saving up your allowances," Lily says, beaming, as Drogo scampers away from her side to go see Bug and Mercy.

"What for?" Emma asks, while Regina purses her lips and narrows her eyes.

"To go to the festival, of course!" At both trainee's blank looks, she continues, "You're fourth years, supervised trips out of the Collegium are allowed. And it so happens that I've been given permission to escort you both to the festival down in town tonight!"

:: _Not just you, Chosen,_ :: Drogo reminds her with a snicker, and Lily rolls her eyes a little at her Companion before admitting,

"Herald David and I will be escorting you."

Emma brightens considerably, green eyes alight with excitement. She and Regina have never had a chance to make trips out of the Collegium yet—Regina because she cannot visit home and Emma because this _is_ her home—and the thought of finally seeing some of the city they've lived in all these years is fascinating.

"When do we leave?" she asks, one hand latching onto Regina's forearm with a squeeze. Lily and Regina both glance at the motion before Lily says, "At the bell for supper. Those going to the festival will find plenty to eat down there."

"What's the reason for the festival?" Regina asks stoically, a frown marring her features even as warmth spreads along her arm from where Emma continues to hold onto her. "We've never had reason to leave the Collegium before."

Undeterred by the younger brunette's icy demeanor, Lily grins and ventures on, "Festivals happen often in Haven, but tonight is a special event, and your parents thought you might like to attend, Emma."

Regina narrows her eyes but Emma just nods along, already fantasizing about what a real festival down in the city might be like. Lily bids a cheerful goodbye shortly after once they agree to meet up by the Collegium gates that evening, and then Emma is sitting at the pond's edge with her feet dipped in while Regina sits primly next to her.

"You'll come, right?" Emma asks, kicking her feet lightly and splashing water at Bug's face where he leans down to drink. He squints accusingly at her and tries to gently nip at her toes in retribution.

"Do I need to? Your father and Lily will be with you." Regina's tone is light, falsely so. Emma reaches over to grab her hand and link their fingers together.

"Yes, but I want you to be there with us."

Dark eyes stare across the pond, watching the water ripple every time Emma kicks her feet or when Bug or Mercy slurp at its surface. Emma's fingers are warm and comforting in her own, fitting perfectly together like two pieces of a puzzle. After a moment, she feels Emma's index twitch and gives it a returning squeeze.

"I'll come."

Emma's smile is blinding.

* * *

The special event, as it turns out, is a celebration of the long-lost Princess's birthday, finally given permission to take place by Queen Snow's decree now that Emma is older and well adjusted. In reality, her birth date is not until tomorrow, but that day is reserved for her own family. Emma has only just stepped out of the Companion-drawn carriage—Bug and Rolan had gladly taken up the roles to flaunt their freshly brushed coats and manes—and is latching onto her father's arm on one side and grabbing Regina's hand with the other, when a thunderous applause greets her on all sides.

Eyes as wide as saucers, Emma freezes up like a deer in headlights, uncertain of how to respond or what to do as every citizen in sight smiles and cheers at her. David hugs her arm in reassurance and Regina squeezes her hand, thumb rubbing soft circles against the side of her knuckle.

"Welcome to Haven, Emma," Lily says, settling a hand on Emma's back where she stands just behind her. "The city is celebrating your day of birth."

It's then that Emma realizes why there are so many Heralds with them at this festival. Herald Belle sits atop her mare Beauty to their left, while Herald Ruby rides her stallion Beast to their right. Spread out within the crowds is more Heralds on foot without their Companions—Kathryn, August, even Mal. The protective figures in White are sprinkled throughout the crowd for her protection, at a festival in which everyone knows the long lost Princess will be in attendance.

Emma leans backwards, shying away, a twinge of panic starting in her chest. Before David even has the chance to calm her with his Empathy, Regina is tugging on her hand and catching her gaze with her own.

: _Don't be afraid, Emma. We're here with you._ :

And just like that, something settles within the blonde, a _rightness_ that stops her fear in its tracks and sends it skittering back into the shadows it came from. Warmth radiates from where Regina's fingers link with hers, a strength that grounds her to the earth rather than letting her spiral into the abyss. Letting out the breath she didn't even know she'd been holding, Emma squeezes the hand in hers and smiles wryly.

"There you are," Regina murmurs, her lips twitching upwards even as she gives Emma an encouraging little tug. David touches Emma's arm on her other side, expression open but concerned.

"Are you alright?" he asks softly. "I'm sorry. This was too much, wasn't it?"

"I'm alright, father." Emma shakes her head and smiles, pulling Regina a little closer by her side. "What should we do first?"

Lily ends up taking charge, pulling them along to the many vendors and shops to buy foods and trinkets or dragging them into the middle of dancing crowds, skipping along to the music of local bards and musicians alike. Many call out their greetings and congratulations, and some children run up to hug the famed Princess, but Emma is generally given a respectful amount of personal space, and the many Heralds patrolling the festival are there to hover protectively whenever she looks a little overwhelmed by the crowds.

Though Snow could not attend due to her many responsibilities that night, Emma is happy to dance with her father, swept up in his strong arms and passed from him to Herald Ruby, to Herald Lily, and then into Regina's awkward but determined attempts. They try all manner of food, from skewered meats and fried pastries to sweet meads and powdered treats. Though Regina is, as always, ignored or frowned at for her clear Karsite ancestry, Emma includes her in everything and makes sure she's having too much fun to really worry about the looks she receives. With the Valdemaran Princess favouring her, the citizens of Haven smartly leave Regina in peace.

"Look at these, 'Gina!" Emma cries out joyfully, dragging the older girl by the wrist towards one vendor. There is a table displaying a multitude of jewellery, little pendants and pressed silver attached to thin chains. They're just like the swan pendant she wears around her own neck.

"Gina?" Regina repeats with a crinkle of her nose, staring accusingly at Emma rather than paying the vendor any attention. "I think not."

Emma frowns at her, lower lip jutted out in a pout. "I should have another name for you."

"Whatever for?"

"Because you're my best friend. It has to be something only I can call you."

Regina rolls her eyes as Emma hums under her breath, contemplating a name. After a moment, her green eyes light up with delight.

"Ginny."

"What? No," Regina complains feebly, even as a strange warmth spreads through her chest at the affectionate nickname. Emma's grin just grows, her arm hooking through Regina's and tugging her a little closer towards the vendor table.

"Yes! Come on, look at these, Ginny."

The name rolls off Emma's tongue with teasing affection and Regina cannot find it in herself to be annoyed, though she does her best to scowl nonetheless. With a shake of her head she looks down at the table and sighs.

"This must be where Baelfire got your pendant from," she notes, remembering that day over a year ago when Bae had first come to her, asking if she would be willing to pool her allowance money with him to get a gift for Emma. She'd pretended to grumble, but had given him all of her allowance regardless.

"I want to get one for you and Bae too," Emma says, instinctively fingering the little pendant around her neck as she peruses the available designs. David and Lily meander up next to them, curious, the former already retrieving a pouch of coins from his belt to pay for whatever his daughter might like to purchase while the latter deliberates getting something for her mother.

"I don't need anything, Emma."

"I know you don't _need_ it, but I _want_ to give you one."

The girls hum and haw over the available designs for a few long minutes before Emma finally makes her decision, picking out two necklaces and flushing in surprise when David immediately moves to pay for it. She's given a small monthly allowance like all trainees, but it's moments like these that remind her that her mother is the _Queen_. She's wealthy, and the thought itself makes her cringe in unfamiliarity.

"A birthday gift," David offers in explanation, easily feeling the unease and discomfort emanating from her even without his Gift of Empathy. "You will have to use your own savings if you wish to buy anything else tonight."

That sets her at ease, cheeks dimpling with a thankful smile as she plucks up the first of the necklaces and turns to Regina.

"Turn," she says. Regina rolls her eyes, turning around with a muttered, "Bossy."

Carefully moving the necklace into place, Emma brushes Regina's braid aside and closes the little clasp, double checking that it's secure before sliding her hands to give Regina's shoulders a squeeze. "There."

A hand moving to the silver pendant at her chest, Regina turns back around and worries at her lower lip, fingers tracing the delicate engraving of a tree with its roots transitioning into the circle around it. She's never received a gift before, not one given without any expectations, so the gratitude in her eyes is soft and genuine.

"Thank you."

Emma beams. "The tree of life. It suits you." She snatches up Baelfire's necklace—a decorative sun engraving—and stores it carefully away in a pocket before grabbing Regina's hand and dragging her off towards the next attraction.

* * *

:: _Enjoy yourself tonight, dearheart?_ :: Bug's voice is soft and content in her mind, his flank moving rhythmically with each breath as he lays there on the grass, ears twitching and blue eyes passing lazily across Companions Field. The night is cool and balmy around them, the moon providing a silvery glow as Emma sits next to the stallion and leans against his side. A short distance away, Regina and Mercy are in a similar position, Mercy laid gracefully on her side with her legs tucked up beneath her and Regina resting against her flank.

: _It was a really good day._ : Emma stifles a yawn, the excitement of the day finally catching up to her and making her drowsy. She can feel Bug's nose snuffling playfully at her shoulder and rolls away from him with a little grumble. : _Mm, what?_ :

:: _Don't fall asleep,_ :: he says, a childish whine in his voice. He lips at her armpit and she wriggles away with a laugh, slapping his flank and getting a huff out of the stallion. :: _If you must sleep, then go sleep in your own bed. I am not a pillow!_ ::

: _You sure feel like one,_ : she teases, but relents when he threatens to drool on her. : _Alright! I won't sleep on you. Havens, you're insufferable._ :

:: _Go sit with your best friend,_ :: he suggests after a moment, blue eyes falling upon the nearby mare and her brunette trainee. :: _Maybe she'll let you sleep on her._ ::

: _Regina would sooner push me into the pond,_ : Emma snorts, not without affection even in her Mindvoice. Bug gives her a contemplative look, silently trying to will her into agreeing. : _What? Am I your excuse to get closer to Mercy? You've a fancy for her, don't you?_ :

His ears flatten backwards, eyes widening in stunned surprise, and Emma barks out in laughter, getting a curious glance from Regina and Mercy.

:: _Shhh!_ :: Bug's voice hisses in her mind, tinged with embarrassment.

: _Oh! You do!_ : Emma's smirking with wicked delight. : _I knew it!_ :

:: _Tell either of them and I will end you, Chosen,_ :: he threatens, but the threat is an empty one and Emma knows it, still howling with laughter, her Gray uniform staining as she rolls over onto the grass.

"What's so funny?" Regina asks, quirking a brow. Emma gasps for air between laughs and Bug takes the chance to squash her down further into the grass by pressing the full weight of his large head down on her, ignoring her flailing limbs.

:: _You're squishing the Princess, Bug,_ :: Mercy notes in amusement. Bug just chuffs and avoids her glimmering eyes with a pinkness to his cheeks.

:: _That's the point._ ::

* * *

Her actual birthday is a much quieter occasion, starting with a hearty breakfast with her parents, a peaceful ride around the Collegium grounds with her mother and their Companions—in which she and Snow talk freely and share more smiles and laughter than they ever have before—and then lunch in the formal dining hall of the Royal Palace in which Regina, Lily, Herald Mal, and Joaidane are also invited. Emma and Regina attend in their nicest Grays while Lily and her mother both arrive in matching formal Whites. As the only non-Herald at the table, Joaidane wears a soft bronze-colored robe, his hair neatly parted and a bit of a smug smile on his face as he hides a wrapped gift within his sleeve.

"You look lovely, Princess," Lily greets with a playful wink reserved just for Emma, coaxing a blush out of the younger blonde as they take their seats, Regina immediately stealing the seat on Emma's right while Snow sits on her left at the head of the table. David chuckles and sits on Regina's other side, leaving the opposite side of the table for Mal, Lily, and Joaidane.

Lunch is a peaceful affair full of small talk and pleasantries. Mal and Lily each have a gift for Emma—a bundle of specialty tea leaves to add to her favourite honeyed tea, and a pretty silver bracelet with an engraved star, respectively—and Joaidane presents her with a small, beautiful decorative bottle filled with pink and gold sand that glitters and glows softly in the dark. "A souvenir from the exotic deserts of Kaled'a'in," he whispers conspiratorially to her, winking. Regina mumbles something about giving her her gift later. Once the others have left, Snow and David present her with a commissioned dagger and a concealed holster, the Royal family's crest engraved on both.

"Every royal and their partners have one," they tell her solemnly, David touching the side of his torso while Snow pats at her own leg, both their weapons hidden under their topmost clothing. Emma nods and regards her new blade with awe before adding the holster to her outfit, deciding to strap it to her back beneath her shirt, hidden but easily available if needed.

"You are so intelligent and strong and beautiful, my sweet girl," Snow says tearily, nearly bursting at the seams with pride as Emma straightens her uniform over her dagger, and Emma blushes and allows the hug and many kisses as she is clutched against Snow's bosom.

"Happy birthday, my love," Snow murmurs into her hair, and Emma doesn't hesitate before pressing a gentle kiss to her mother's cheek.

Regina is lingering outside when Emma finally exits the palace, her brown eyes lighting up and a little smile tugging at her lips. "Hello."

"Hullo," Emma repeats, amused. "We've the day off. What would you like to do?"

"I should be asking you that," Regina scoffs, but she's already tugging Emma along by her wrist towards the Collegium. They duck into the girls dorm, and Emma gives her old dorm room—now occupied by some other trainee—a longing look while Regina digs into her closet for something. Emma's parents love having her in the palace with them and trying to move back into the dorms is a battle she knows she'll never win at this point.

"Stop lingering in the hall and come in here," the brunette says over her shoulder. Emma steps in and sits down on the edge of the brunette's bed, only then noticing the symbols etched onto the floorboard in white chalk. When Regina turns around with a dagger in hand, she jumps.

"What are you doing?" she asks, voice hitching. Regina pushes the door shut and then drops down onto a knee in the middle of the ring of symbols, the edge of the dagger poised over her other palm.

"Making a blood oath," she says solemnly, eyes dark and somber, "that I, Regina of Karse, pledge my loyalty to you, princess Emma of Valdemar. That I will never betray you, and will willingly give my life to protect yours."

"Regina, you don't need to—"

"I want to, Emma."

"To prove that you aren't a spy or a traitor? You would do all _this_ to prove it to others?" she asks, frustrated. She knows the scar that a blood oath will leave behind—knows that it will be Regina's brand to bear for the rest of her life, a visible symbol of her promise. They had learned about the seriousness of a blood oath early on, warned off of the lifelong spell that could kill its caster if they ever broke their oath. Regina just smiles softly.

"To prove it to myself. Let me do this. Please."

Blinking back stunned tears, Emma watches as Regina repeats her oath and moves the blade to her hand again.

"Wait." Emma reaches back, hand slipping beneath her shirt to tug her dagger free of its sheathe. The clean, paper-thin edge gleams in the late sunlight filtering through the windows. With a questioning look, Emma holds the royal dagger up and Regina nods, setting her simple knife aside and offering up her hand. Emma cradles it within her own, setting the blade along Regina's palm.

One quick slide and her olive flesh opens in a clean, shallow line, the blade so sharp that Regina doesn't even feel the initial cut. As her nerves register the hot, stinging pain, she retrieves her hand and turns it over, letting the welling blood drip down onto the floorboard in the center of symbols. The unfamiliar incantation leaves her lips in a soft murmur, words that she'd had to hunt down in long-forgotten tomes in the library, and for a moment, the chalk on the ground seems to almost glow.

Looking up to meet wide green eyes as she comes to the end of the incantation, Regina gives a reassuring smile. "Do you, princess Emma of Valdemar, accept my blood oath?"

Emma's heart is in her throat, pounding fiercely in her ears as her best friend stares up at her with those familiar, smoldering eyes, more open and trusting than she has ever seen them before. Hoarsely, she says,

"I do."


	4. Part 3

**Part 3**

It's in the middle of the night when they hear the Death Bell toll for the first time, signaling the death of a Herald or a Companion. It makes a long, mourning sound that resonates through their very souls and wakes them all from slumber. Emma nearly tumbles from her bed in her haste to get up, tears rolling down her cheeks as the ache of an unnatural death cuts her to her very core. She can feel it, feels the disruption in the air, like a taut string snapping and cutting them all off from one who was their own. She didn't know him well aside from attending his classes, but his parting spirit is instantly recognized nonetheless.

Herald Graham.

She stumbles from her bedroom with a sob, feeling her way blindly down the dark hall to her parents' chambers. There's a thud of doors and a racket of voices before Snow and David are hurrying down the corridor towards her, their tear-stained faces illuminated in the moonlight.

"Go," David says to Snow, catching his teenage daughter in his arms as Snow hurries away with a regretful look back at them. She wants nothing more than to comfort her child, but the entire Collegium is awake and likely panicking by now, and she has a duty to her people, especially since David has this handled.

"What's happened to Herald Graham?" Emma cries, her voice stuttering. "Why, father?"

"I don't know, I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing his lips to her hair as she clings to him and sobs into his tunic.

As trainees age into full fledged Heralds, their spirits bond more fully to other Heralds and Companions alike, thus David can feel Graham's death far more strongly than his daughter can. He knows that Graham died abruptly and violently, and he can feel that Graham's Companion Hunter is still alive, for now at least.

"Emma!" A voice shouts from down the corridor. David looks up in time to see Regina sprinting towards them in the darkness, likely having ran the entire way from the Collegium dorms to the royal palace, eyes glistening with tears and a look of fear etching her face. It doesn't abate until she has her best friend in her arms, the girls clinging to each other with shuddering sobs and whispered words of comfort. Regina's right hand is tightly bandaged and she presses her palm to Emma's spine, relaxing at the physical contact.

"Come, we must join the others," David coaxes gently once their cries have calmed, leading them to the meeting hall of the palace. Most of the other Heralds are already gathered there, and those that aren't are calming the trainees over in the Collegium. Emma and Regina stick close to David's side as he navigates the crowd of White uniforms or sleepwear and makes his way to Snow's side up on the main platform.

"Everyone, please, I ask that you remain calm!" Snow implores, standing just in front of the throne, looking benevolent and graceful even in the soft robes she'd thrown on over her sleeping gown. The ruckus of voices lower, but the tension and unease flowing through the crowd is palpable.

"Graham was murdered!"

"No one's been killed in years, what could this mean?"

"Does anyone have strong enough Mindspeech to reach his Companion?"

"What about his partner? Didn't he take a trainee out on circuit with him?"

"Oh gods, Bae," Emma breathes out, the air leaving her lungs as if she'd been punched in the gut. Regina's hand tightens in hers and they exchange terrified glances. Baelfire had been Graham's circuit partner, following and learning from him on his internship. What of him? The Death Bell only tolled once—Baelfire and Pan have to be alive, but in what state?

"I need to See," Snow says, her voice loud and authoritative. "Kathryn?"

Herald Kathryn, with her skilled Gift of Farsight—the ability to See things from long distances away—steps forward, striding onto the platform and giving the Queen a questioning look. Snow turns to Archibald.

"Do we know their route?"

"If they were on schedule, they should have been traveling along Sun Serpent River on the border of Karse by now," Archibald murmurs, brows furrowed with confusion. Kathryn nods, about to begin her search when Lily hurries up next to her.

"My Farsight is quite strong, may I help?" she asks.

"Of course." Kathryn takes Lily's offered hand and both women close their eyes, going quiet with concentration. Lily shares her Gift willingly and bolsters Kathryn as the older Herald focuses their powers together to search farther and farther across the kingdom. The entire room falls silent, unwilling to distract them from their mission. After a few long, tense minutes, Kathryn says, "I… I found him."

She holds out her other hand, palm up, eyes still scrunched shut. Snow hesitates but a moment before linking their hands, allowing Kathryn to temporarily share her Gift with her. Pulled into Kathryn's mind, Snow Sees what she Sees: Graham, laying still and lifeless in a pool of his own blood.

A cry of despair leaves her lips as she instinctively jerks away, though Kathryn holds firm to her hand and does not let her break the connection.

"Oh, Havens," Snow whispers, fresh tears spilling from her closed eyes as she stares upon the body of her friend. Though Kathryn and Lily stand right next to her with their hands linked, their voices sound almost far away.

"Is this the trade route near Cordor?" asks Kathryn.

"The road is too unkempt. I think we're a short distance away. Is that the river?" Lily mutters, her voice strained with tears held at bay. She tries to focus on the surroundings they can see rather than on where Graham lays on the bloodied dirt path. Kathryn directs their focus further along the path and Lily makes a little sound of recognition.

"I know this place. I've gone through it during my circuit."

Their hands unlink and the image fades from Snow's mind, though from the distant eyes of Kathryn and Lily, it's clear the two Farseers are still surveying the scene.

"Can you lead a team there to retrieve Graham?" Snow asks, her voice low. In the deathly silence of the room, every Herald hears her anyway.

"I can," Lily confirms somberly, eyes refocusing on the Queen standing before her. There's a scuffle of footsteps, and then Mal appears at the front of the crowd, blonde curls scraped back into a sharp bun and her smoke-gray eyes dark with anger.

"I'll go with her," she says, and before Snow can argue the logistics of sending out one of their only Firestarters, there's a whistle of air. At Snow's feet, two arrows clatter to the ground. One headless, the other with a blue and a black band.

"Archibald," Snow whispers, already stooping to retrieve the arrows as Dean Archibald hurries to her side. He takes them from her and gently runs his fingers through the barbed fletching, brows pinched in concentration. The headless one has Graham's pattern in the fletching, while the other takes him a moment to recognize. He's one of the only people who has every Herald's pattern completely memorized, and within moments he's lifting his head with a grimace.

"They're from Baelfire."

Baelfire, whose Gift is Fetching—in his case, transporting items across long distances. He's managed to send warning arrows to them from half a kingdom away, and this time, it's David who looks livid.

"August, Ruby, with me," he growls, already moving for the door. Snow manages to catch him by his wrist and jerk him back, her expression equally as fierce.

"I am just as hurt as you are, David, but we cannot just take up arms and go rushing off in a fury!"

"Graham is dead!" David cries, his voice cracking at the mere thought of his friend. "And Baelfire— Havens, he's just a boy! We have to get to him—"

" _David_ ," Snow says sharply, and the flicker of her eyes has David glancing over his shoulder to find Emma and Regina clinging to each other's hands, fearful and in tears once more. His shoulders sagging, David pushes a hand through his hair and grits his teeth, willing his own tears away.

"What do we do?"

"What we must." Snow takes a wavering breath, settling herself before moving into action. Her commands are called out in a brisk and no-nonsense manner, her expression firm and resolved as she strides quickly through the crowd and addresses each Herald as she passes them. "Archibald, I need to know the estimated location of all our Heralds on circuit. We'll send out our fastest Companions and have them spread the word. Ruby, get me two of your finest fighters. Kathryn, a pair of your fastest riders. August, you're with them. Belle, if you could please resettle our trainees and make sure they get back to bed, we will have the Healers speak with them in the morning if they need support. Nova, I need you to go alert the Healers wing—"

She blows through the crowd like a determined tornado, David trailing after her and wringing his hands together anxiously. Emma and Regina might have stood there rooted to the spot for longer than was likely good for them if not for Eugenia appearing behind them, one weathered hand on each of their shoulders.

"No use for you two to stay here," she says firmly, shutting down Emma's argument before it can even start. "Your parents have this handled, princess. You can help by returning to bed where they know you'll be safe tonight."

They're ushered out of the meeting hall and pushed towards the corridor leading to the royal family's chambers, Eugenia standing there with her hands on her hips, staring at them pointedly until they shuffle off in the right direction. Emma grips Regina's hand without any indication of letting go anytime soon and Regina simply lets her, taking comfort in the little bit of physical contact. Only after they're in Emma's chambers with the doors pushed shut does Regina look around and worry at her lip.

"Emma?"

"I don't want to be separated tonight," Emma mutters, eyes averted even as she pulls her towards the large bed. "Can you stay with me?"

Wordlessly, Regina kicks off the boots and overcoat she'd thrown over her nightgown on the way here, clambering into the other side of the bed as Emma reclaims her spot. They settle down into the luxurious bedding—absently, Regina thinks she hasn't been in a bed this nice since leaving her home in Karse—and lay still under thick, warm sheets. For a long few minutes the only sound that can be heard is their steady breathing, not yet slow enough to be asleep.

Eventually, Emma breaks the silence.

"Do you think he's alright?" Her voice is somewhat hoarse with emotion. Regina turns her head slightly to see the shine of fresh tears in Emma's eyes, barely visible in the moonlight.

"Baelfire is too stubborn to die," she says. The bed shakes briefly with Emma's silent, startled laughter. The blonde rolls over, facing away from Regina, and after a moment begins to wriggle backwards until her back is pressed gently against Regina's side.

"He'll be fine," Regina offers softly, carefully turning onto her side to settle an arm around Emma's shoulder and feeling some of the tension leave the younger girl's body. After a moment or two of no response, Emma snuggles back a little closer against her, sniffling and swiping subtly at her face.

"Why would anyone kill Herald Graham?" Her voice is small, subdued. Regina hugs her a little closer, tears prickling at her own eyes and sliding across the bridge of her nose where she slowly buries her face against Emma's hair.

"I don't know."

Emma sniffles wetly again, comforted only by the feeling of safety within her best friend's arms. Something twinges in her chest, fear and guilt and shame all mixed into one.

:: _There's no shame in being afraid, dearheart,_ :: Bug says softly, love and reassurance in his voice. Outside, he paces the Field with the other restless and anxious Companions, wishing he could comfort her in person but knowing she is in good hands.

"I'm not afraid," Emma whispers aloud, staring mournfully across the darkness of her room. Regina just hugs her even closer than she thought possible, saying nothing at all.

* * *

"Snow?"

David enters their study with slow, weary movements. The afternoon sun pours in through the windows with a kind of bright cheeriness that no one feels at the moment. They hadn't properly slept since the Death Bell tolled almost two days ago and exhaustion is starting to creep up on them both in the way their shoulders sag and the bags beneath their eyes grow prominent.

"I don't understand," Snow says softly, sitting in the exact same place he'd left her a few hours earlier. She's curled up on the chaise, arms wrapped tight around her legs, staring down blankly at the table where the arrow with a blue and a black band taunts her. She's stared at it the entire time and still does not understand. "A betrayal. Who would betray us? Who could they have run into out there?"

David just eases himself down onto the seat next to her, settling a big hand over her shoulder and giving her a gentle squeeze. Instinctively, she uncurls from her position and leans into his side, taking comfort in the way his arm wraps around her back and his chin rests atop her head.

"Baelfire is still alive," he says, voice soothing. "The group we sent out may yet find him on the way and bring him home safely. Surely he will have answers for us."

"I hope so, David," Snow murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as she slumps a little further into his embrace. The tension that has been sitting heavily in her shoulders finally relaxes after a few long moments of silence, and when David next tilts his head to look down, Snow has fallen asleep for the first time in two days.

His position isn't the most comfortable and his wife's elbow is sticking into his side at an odd angle, but David remains very still and dutifully watches over her for many hours longer.

* * *

For six days, Emma and Regina are inseparable, and life at the Collegium goes on despite every Herald and Companion's wary and alert behavior. On the seventh day, a Herald arrives escorting an exhausted looking Pan and an blank-gazed, blood-soaked Hunter. An unconscious Baelfire lays tied to Pan's saddle.

Snow, David, and a flock of Healers swarm to their aid, and once Baelfire, Pan, and Hunter are being tended to in the Healers Wing, the Herald and his own Companion head back out for their circuit with promises to keep an eye out for further trouble.

Pan isn't nearly as bad as he looks—most of the blood staining his coat isn't his, and aside from a case of exhaustion, dehydration, and minor cuts and bruises, he's doing surprisingly well. Baelfire suffers a rather deep wound in his abdomen that has bled steadily throughout their journey back, but once they clean him up and begin mending his flesh back together, he just requires plenty of bedrest, food, and water. The exhaustion and trauma of the attack is what keeps him in a state of depression, and for the first few days, he speaks to no one and sleeps often.

Hunter is, as Snow had feared, the worst off. His many wounds and lacerations are treatable, but the Companion remains unresponsive to any and all attempts at communication. He won't even move without someone tugging him along by his reins, and after days of trying and trying, the other Companions shake their heads and plod silently away.

:: _He is gone,_ :: Blanche tells Snow eventually, her blue eyes dull with sorrow. :: _Graham's death has broken his soul. There is nothing we can do for him now._ ::

Snow personally leads Hunter to his old stall and watches as the stallion silently lays down in the mounds of hay, making sure he is as comfortable as can be with grain and water within easy reach. He lays his massive head down and closes his eyes to sleep.

Two days later, Blanche is the one to tell her that he will not wake again.

Emma and Regina are eventually given permission to visit Baelfire in the Healers Wing a week after his return. It's not so much that Baelfire is ready for visitors, but rather that Lily and a team of other Heralds are an hour away from returning with Graham's body after a long journey to retrieve it, and Snow would much rather have her daughter distracted than to stumble upon the sight. As Drogo is close enough to the city, he manages to contact Blanche and Rolan, and they in turn alert Snow and David.

"I believe Blue says it's alright for you two to see Baelfire now," she says to the girls that afternoon, finding them huddled together over a bowl of shared soup and bread in the Common Room. They dash off immediately, and Snow has to resist a sigh as David moves up behind her with a tilt of his head. It's time to deal with Graham's funeral.

They've cleaned him up as best as they could. Lily's eyes are still bloodshot as she sits atop Drogo next to their small convoy, Graham's body—wrapped up in White sheets—gently settled within the hay cart pulled by two of their Companions. Snow and David's appearance has her shoulders sagging, glad for her superiors to take over. She slides off of Drogo's back and finds herself immediately wrapped up in Mal's arms, her mother having run out from the Collegium the moment she heard of their return.

"Are the funeral preparations ready?" one Herald asks, to which Snow gives a slow nod of her head.

"He didn't have any other family," she says softly, her arms wrapping around herself. "He always said he wanted to be returned to the Collegium in death."

In the end, he and his Companion Hunter are buried side-by-side near the Grove of Companion's Field, a final resting place for deceased Heralds who have no other home.

* * *

Baelfire shows signs of recognition for the first time when Emma and Regina burst into his room, his dull eyes brightening with something akin to joy. By the time they reach his bedside, tears are rolling down his cheeks, and Blue is standing by the door with sympathy on her features. It's the most emotion she's seen from the young man all week. After his initial break down when he first arrived, he'd been unresponsive and cold.

"Bae, you're alright," Emma breathes out, all but climbing onto the bed to envelope him in a hug. Even Regina joins in the embrace, her pride set aside in her relief to see her friend alive and recovering. Baelfire clings to them both for a long moment, his face buried between their shoulders and his fingers clutching to the soft fabric of their Grays. When they separate, his body relaxes back into the cot as if a weight has been lifted from him.

"I've missed you both," he admits in a hoarse voice that has not spoken in days, smiling a wobbly smile and swiping the tears away from his face. "I thought I'd die before I got to see you two again."

"You're too stubborn for death," Regina mutters, but there is warmth in her eyes and her hand remains on his arm, squeezing gently as if reassuring herself that he is indeed there and alive. Baelfire just smiles, glad for the familiarity of her snark.

"How are you feeling?" Emma asks, eyes darting across his body to take stock of the many bandages and wrappings. He stinks of poultices and heady ointments, no doubt applied to prevent permanent scarring once the Healers had done as much as they could. Baelfire just shrugs—his shoulders are bony and thinner than Emma remembers—and scratches absently at the gauze on his arms.

"I'm... better. Nothing time won't heal."

"Physically," Regina points out, her dark gaze knowing. "Emotionally?"

Baelfire blinks slowly at her, eyes momentarily watering again before he sniffs and smiles awkwardly. "To be determined."

Regina gives him an odd look before straightening up a little where she sits as if bracing herself for her next words. "Do you know who attacked you?"

"Regina!" Emma says in warning, a hand shooting out to rest on Baelfire's shoulder with sympathy. "He's only just started getting better, you can't just ask him that!"

"Someone has to, since he's refused to speak to anyone since his return," Regina says firmly, pinning Baelfire with a meaningful stare. "Your arrow said there was betrayal. The Queen needs to know who's betrayed Valdemar."

"Regina—" Emma starts, but Bae's hand on her wrist halts her argument.

"She's right," he murmurs softly, eyes downcast. "I— I need to tell someone. I didn't want to remember, but..."

His shoulders twitch, a shiver running through his body and a wince making itself prominent on his face. What was once a sweet, boyish smile now looks only like a scared grimace. Emma laces her fingers with his and he gives her hand a squeeze.

"Herald Graham and I," he begins slowly, eyes glazing over with fresh tears at the thought of his deceased friend and mentor, "we were traveling along the Sun Serpent River and looking for the nearest Waystation when a woman approached us. She rode alone and she was—"

He hesitates, eyes cutting nervously to Regina.

"She was... a Karsite," he says, apologetic. Regina slides her jaw to one side and shrugs; some of her people are good, some are bad, and she has grown a thick enough skin to stop taking it so personally when her people are spoken of. She knows who she is: a peacekeeper—and who she is to _Emma_ : an oathbound protector—and that's all that matters to her now.

"She said she was an envoy of Karse. She asked us questions at first, and Graham spoke to her while I stood back. She was like a snake with her words, smooth yet menacing. I didn't trust her right away and I don't think Graham did either, but he was always so chivalrous... She asked about Valdemar and about the royal family. About you, Emma."

Baelfire grit his teeth, eyes growing watery as he squeezed Emma's hand within his.

"Graham refused to tell her. I— I didn't even know he'd been hurt until Hunter and Pan started running and Graham just fell right out of his saddle. I tried to go back for him, I did, and Hunter went at her like a bull, but then something hit me—"

His hands instinctively wrap around his stomach as if he were feeling the cut all over again.

"She wasn't even near me but when I tried to pick Graham up, something just cut across my stomach like— like ice. Hunter screamed and Pan grabbed me and started dragging me away before I could even..."

His words dissolve on a soft sob, tears flowing down his cheeks again as Emma moves forward to comfort him. Regina has gone eerily silent, her dark eyes glaring absently across the room and her shoulders hunching in. After a moment, she slowly drags her gaze onto the quietly crying Baelfire and says, her voice almost monotone,

"She attacked you with magic?"

"Magic, yes," Blue says, the three youth wincing in surprise at the reminder that the Healer has been standing in the doorway the entire time. She steps further into the room now, expression pensive as she meets Regina's sharp gaze. "I needed three of my best Healers to assist me in closing that wound. We haven't seen damage done by magic like that in decades."

Regina's throat bobs with a thick swallow. Emma catches the movement and frowns.

"You know who did this," she says, knowing the brunette's every tell. Regina's eyes flicker downwards—regret—and then she meets Emma's eyes, a hand sliding up to wrap across her stomach—anxiety or fear. Emma reaches over to grab onto her free hand in comfort.

"I know of someone in Karse who has magic," Regina says slowly, eyes going almost distant with recollection. "Magic that felt like white hot ice, that cut through flesh like butter and left frostbite burns in its wake."

A shiver runs through her body and her back arches with something like a wince, as if suddenly struck by an old wound again. Blue sits gingerly next to the brunette with a concerned look on her face.

"Let me see, child."

Regina says nothing, just turns her back to the Healer and allows the older woman to gently lift her gray tunic until most of her bare back is exposed.

The thin, crisscrossing lines of blackened scars lashed across Regina's back has Emma stifling a sharp gasp. Baelfire just winces and lifts his own shirt, revealing the black and swollen cut across his abdomen, the dead flesh mended shut but the living flesh still needing time to heal into scar tissue.

Blue's jaw clenches and she sets a blessedly cool hand against Regina's spine, sorrow and sympathy in her eyes. The brunette relaxes minutely under the touch, unaware that Blue is using her Healing abilities to soothe the old ache of her injuries until the hand falls away and the feeling of warmth leaves with it.

"The same mage harmed you both," she says, merely a request for confirmation. Regina nods slowly, shamefully. "Tell me who it is, child. I must warn the Queen."

With Emma's hand in hers, Regina swallows the lump in her throat and hoarsely forces out the answer.

"My mother."

* * *

"And you are certain you don't know what her plan is?"

"I know nothing." Regina stares ahead grimly, feeling naked as she sits in a stiff wooden chair with the Queen, the Queen's Own, the Dean, and Blue pacing the room around her. Their expressions are wary and though she cannot blame them for their concerns, she feels anxious and uncomfortable regardless.

"When is the last time you saw or spoke with your mother?" David asks.

"The day Mercy Chose me and took me away from Karse," Regina replies, meeting his gaze. His mouth opens with another question but the door behind them all opens with a loud creak, Joaidane appearing in the frame.

"I do apologize for the interruption, your Majesty," he says with a polite dip of his head in Snow's direction, his words formal as if he can sense the seriousness within the room. "But a representative from Hardorn has arrived in the capital and says they have an audience with you. Might there be a preferable time for them to visit the palace?"

"Hardorn?" David asks, confused, at the same time Snow sighs and shakes her head.

"Of course; I forgot. King Brennan did send a letter some months ago that he would be sending his envoy to discuss trades with us. Joaidane, would you be willing to host our guest until we can properly welcome them to Valdemar?"

"Certainly. I understand you have quite a lot on your plate recently." He gives her a sympathetic smile, dipping his head again. "I am at your call should you need me."

He finds Regina in her peculiar seat in the middle of the room and gives her a kind little smile before slipping back out, though the door swings back open as Emma slips beneath his arm and wiggles her way inside. Joaidane just chuckles at her disregard for protocol before shaking his head and shutting the door behind him.

"Emma," David notes her entrance with a disapproving little shake of his head, but his daughter is never one to be dissuaded and just crosses her arms with a scowl.

"It's been an hour, father. Why do you even need to question her like this? She's the one who told you about Cora in the first place!"

"It's not so simple a matter," Dean Archibald explains gently, moving as if to shepherd her out of the room again. "Regardless of her cooperation, we still need to question her to be safe."

Regina clears her throat and says, quite pointedly to Snow, "Use the Truth Spell on me."

"But you're already telling the truth," Emma argues, to which Regina holds up a hand and simply repeats herself to the Queen.

"You wish to be absolutely sure and I am willing to endure the Spell if it will prove my loyalty. So do it."

"Very well," Snow relents, even as Emma frowns and intones, "Mother!"

"It's fine, Emma," Regina says, her voice softening as she turns her head to glance at the blonde. Cowed, Emma allows the Dean to move her over to the chaise against the wall, grudgingly taking a seat as Snow stands before Regina and quickly casts the Truth Spell twice. A blue fog envelopes her head, drifting just above her shoulders and glowing brightly for all but Regina to see.

"Please tell us your full name," Snow begins with great reluctance, leaning back against her desk as Regina straightens up in her chair. She knows the girl is innocent—has seen her unwavering loyalty to Emma these past years—but the others insist on protocol and a Queen cannot ignore such things simply because of her own biases.

"Regina Mills."

"What is your relation to this Cora that you told us about?"

"She is my mother."

"And you believe she is the same one who attacked Baelfire and killed Herald Graham?"

"Yes."

"When was the last time you saw or spoke to her?"

"The day Mercy Chose me and took me away from Karse. I have not seen her since, nor do I have any desire to see her ever again."

"And why is that?"

Brown eyes turn dark and cold as Regina glares up at the Queen. The second level Truth Spell means she can say nothing but the truth, and it comes out hard and brutally honest. "Because I hate her."

Snow visibly shivers, unsettled by the idea that this young girl could hate her own mother so genuinely. Emma, however, remains silent, lips pursed and hands wrung together. She knows what Regina's upbringing was like—heard the many stories during quiet nights or stolen moments when it's just the two of them talking honestly. It's still a shock that the abusive woman she'd heard stories about is now a potential threat to the kingdom, but her main concern is Regina. The brunette's hands are clenched tightly into fists atop her lap, her shoulders stiff with tension.

After a long moment of stunned silence, Snow clears her throat. "Do you have any idea as to why your mother would attack Heralds, ask about the royal family, or step foot into Valdemar?"

"Nothing concrete," Regina relents, frowning. "She holds a prominent position within the Karsite council and often speaks of the old days, back before the kingdom was reformed. She hates Heralds and Valdemar alike, radical in her beliefs. I can't imagine why she particularly cares to ask about the royal family, and though I wouldn't dismiss the idea of her wanting to harm your family in any way, I cannot see how she could go about it. All of the corrupt Sunpriests in Karse were banished or killed during the reform. The current leader of the Sunpriests is intent on peace and has honored the alliance with Valdemar. My mother would have no allies."

David looks pale when he finally speaks again. "I don't understand. Karse _hated_ magic. Their Sunpriests used to burn people at the stake if they believed they had magic. How did your mother survive?"

"As I said, she held a prominent position within the council and had the tongue of a snake. No one suspected her, and those who knew were too afraid of her to say anything."

"So you believe that, other than her own magic, she likely does not have any allies?"

"Yes."

"And should she manage to infiltrate our city or our Collegium, you would not aid her?"

"No!" Regina hisses, eyes flashing with anger.

"Other than your Herald-magic, have you ever performed any other magicks?" Snow intrudes, her gaze piercing. Regina hesitates only a moment before opening her mouth to deny it.

A strangled sound escapes her throat, the words stolen from her by the Truth Spell.

"Speak the truth," David warns, his body tensing. Emma goes stiff with alarm as Regina clenches her hands and takes a slow breath.

"Just once," she relents, her knee beginning to bounce with nervousness. David looks suspicious but Snow only nods, frowning.

"Tell me what magic you performed."

Brown eyes squeeze shut. "A blood oath."

A sharp gasp reminds them of Blue's presence, the Healer standing frozen next to Archibald, eyes wide and lips twisted into disapproval and disappointment. Archibald, too, looks unsettled by the idea of one so young and inexperienced performing a blood oath.

"Show me," Blue demands, appearing almost instantly at Regina's side. When the girl unravels the wraps from her hand and reveals the still-healing cut across her palm, Blue grabs her hand to inspect it with a pinched look. The mending flesh is a dark, blood-red, and though it will likely heal smoothly with nary a bump, the stark color will never go away, forever branding her with a blood oath. "Oh, child," she breathes out, shaking her head.

"You realize what you've done?" Snow asks, brows furrowed.

"I do," Regina says, voice strong with conviction. "It is my burden to bear for life."

"And your oathbound? Who is it?" David asks, though by the look of resigned pain on his face, he knows, as does the rest of the room. Emma sets her jaw and avoids her parents' gazes when Regina replies.

"Emma. I am oathbound to protect Emma."

Snow's eyes close and David rubs a hand over his face and exchanges a weary look with the Dean. Blue releases Regina's hand with a disapproving click of her tongue.

"Go," Snow finally says, at which point Regina realizes she has been freed of the Truth Spell. "You are clear of suspicion. There is no denying a blood oath. I trust you will always act with my daughter's best interests in mind."

Regina nods stiffly, standing and making a hasty retreat without sparing Emma a glance. Emma attempts to follow but is immediately grabbed by the back of her collar by her father, his expression unamused.

"You have much to explain, young lady," he says gravely as Snow crosses her arms. Archibald and Blue both bow and make their exit, not wishing to be witness to the Queen and her Own disciplining the grimacing young princess.

* * *

Out in Companion's Field, Bug suddenly winces, his ears flattening back and his blue eyes flickering accusingly towards the Palace.

:: _Has the Princess gotten herself into trouble?_ :: Mercy asks him, amused.

:: _I told her not to go up there,_ :: he sighs, squinting in annoyance. :: _I can feel her anxiety skyrocketing. I can't believe we let them do the blood oath. The Queen is furious._ ::

:: _I tried to talk Regina out of it,_ :: Mercy defends. :: _Both our Chosen are insufferably stubborn when they want to be._ ::

:: _Yes, yes they are,_ :: Bug agrees with another wince as Emma's emotional turmoil hits him like a slap upside the head, and Mercy just canters off with a chortle of laughter at his dilemma.

* * *

"How mad are they?" Regina's voice is quiet, her dark eyes inquisitive as she glances over from where she sits in the windowsill, lit only by the evening sun as it dips into the horizon. Emma shuts her bedroom door behind her and flops onto the bed, unsurprised by Regina's presence. The older girl comes and goes from her suites often enough nowadays that the guards allow her free rein in the Palace.

"Very," Emma admits, her reply muffled into the comforter. After a moment, she lifts her head up and pouts across the room at the brunette. "Ginny. Come away from the window."

Regina huffs and rolls her eyes like she always does at the perky sounding nickname but relents nonetheless, unfolding from her perch and sliding onto the bed next to the blonde. They both stretch out side by side, staring idly up at the ceiling to watch as the orange glow of the sun fades away. The bed jostles slightly as Emma makes herself comfortable, her hand sneaking into Regina's wrapped one to wind their fingers together. When there is nothing left but shadows above, Regina turns her head to find the blonde fast asleep, her mouth ajar and her eyelashes fluttering in slumber.

"I don't regret it," she whispers, feeling her blood oath wound tingle where her palm rests against Emma's. "I hope you don't either."

Emma's fingers twitch, her hand unconsciously tightening on Regina's, and Regina smiles slightly and takes it as a sign.

* * *

For all the grief that Herald Graham's death had caused, everything was as quiet and peaceful as usual. Snow had every Herald on circuit on high alert, but weeks passed and no one had anything new or suspicious to report. There were no more attacks, nothing above the usual skirmish with bandits or outlaws, and certainly no deaths other than one older Herald passing quite peacefully in his sleep.

The Death Bell had tolled at his passing, a soft and mourning sound at supper time. The trainees had sat in morose silence as the Heralds around them either shed a few tears or left the Common Room to put him to rest. He'd been gently transferred into a casket and his next of kin notified. An hour later and the Death Bell tolled one more time for his Companion, the elderly mare having laid down under her and her Chosen's favourite tree in the Field and closed her eyes for the final time to join him in the afterlife.

David's spies returned every so often with the same reports. Valdemar was quiet, but there were whispers of conspirators in Karse. Nothing was ever concrete, but the whispers continued so often in the taverns and amongst the people that David finally went to Snow with his suspicions, and they both agreed to mark new circuits along the Karse border to keep an eye on the other kingdom.

Baelfire's recovery was slow-going, but once he was on his feet he was much livelier, happy to be in Emma and Regina's company again. Snow's council had discussed his internship long and hard but eventually relented and gave him his Whites, proclaiming him a full Herald for his bravery in the matter. As he had months of rehabilitation left before he was physically ready to go on circuit again, however, they gave him a temporary teaching position at the Collegium instead, teaching a specialized Fetching class to young trainees with the same Gift.

Regina's hand wound healed smoothly, the skin marked by nothing but a blood red slash of color, almost like a tattoo. She left it uncovered and, though she did not purposely bare it to others, she made no moves to hide it, either. Gossip spread quickly amongst the young trainees, of course, and before long she was known as the Princess's blood-bound knight. There would always be those that held biases against her, but many others began showing her some degree of respect or admiration, and though Regina was unused to the friendly attention and didn't much care for it, it wasn't unpleasant, either.

Emma's friend circle expanded just a little bit, allowing in Lily and Lily's quirky yearmate Jefferson, along with Ava and Nick, twins who were a couple year groups below them but followed her around like puppies. Regina didn't particularly mind any of them, but she remained grumpy regarding her friendship with Lily and never hesitated to say so.

"Oh, come now, Ginny," Emma would tease her relentlessly, bumping their shoulders together as the brunette huffed at her. "You know you'll always be my best friend! Why are you jealous?"

:: _Why indeed,_ :: Mercy would repeat coyly, and Regina would scowl and pretend not to know what her Companion was even hinting at.

* * *

Fourth year quickly turned into fifth year, their days full of classes and training, of long hours in the sun with weapons callusing their hands or long evenings in the library, noses buried in books. Emma and Regina both grew into themselves, bodies filling out with curves and muscle, the last traces of baby fat gone and replaced with defined angles and maturing looks. Seventeen and some, Regina had garnered more favorable attention in the past year as she grew only more beautiful, her olive skin taking on a warm tan from the sun and her thick hair looking effortlessly glossy as it fell in soft waves down her back. Similarly, sixteen going on seventeen, Emma was all chiseled jaw and sharp, pretty features, her blonde mane regularly pulled back into a high tail to be kept out of her way, active as she was. Whatever people thought of the Valdemaran Princess and her blood-bound Karsite knight, one thing was certain; they had grown into strong and admirable young women, and Snow couldn't be more proud.

Regina would deny it till her deathbed, surely, but once Emma's parents had gotten over the fact that she'd performed a blood oath, they'd grown to be quite fond of Emma's loyal friend. She was invited often to their family meals and the occasional outings, and Snow and David always spared a smile or stopped for a quick conversation whenever they bumped into her, which was far more attention than the Queen and her Own usually gave to any normal trainee. Even Joaidane, who had become something of a grandfatherly figure to Emma, insisted that she join them often, the girls curled atop a rug by the fireplace as he sat in the armchair nearby and read them poetry or regaled them with tales of his travels. Baelfire, and then Ava and Nick would be dragged along, and it became something of a weekend tradition for the friends, long evenings lounging by the fire as Joaidane's soft, weathered voice lulled them into naps.

It's an evening much like this that Jefferson finds them half dozing on the rug, Joaidane already snoring softly in the armchair, a poetry book sliding precariously from his fingers.

"Wake up, you lot," he hisses, nudging at their sides with his boot and then taking a quick step back when Emma makes a swing for his ankle. "Come on, wake yourself. There's a party going on!"

"What party?" Regina grumbles, her forehead red from where she'd been leaning against Emma's shoulder. Baelfire yawns lazily from where he's sprawled next to the fire, and Ava and Nick are already sitting up and rubbing at their eyes.

"Lily and the others snuck in an entire shipment of spirits. There are bottles aplenty and everyone's holed up in the barn having fun. Come on!"

He nudges at them again and Emma sits up, shooting him a filthy look. "Kick me again and I'll shove a canary up your coal mine. I'm getting up, damn you."

"Sneaking alcohol into the Collegium? Aren't you Heralds supposed to be responsible?" Regina mutters, though she's on her feet already and looking mildly intrigued, if not annoyed.

" _Young_ Heralds. We still know how to have fun." Jefferson just winks and pounds a fist against his White-clad chest before bounding towards the door. "Come on! Before the old man awakens and tries to bore you with more poetry."

"I like his poetry," Ava complains, but the group of friends are already following after Jefferson like flies to honey, their steps light and excited as he leads the way across the yard, past the training fields, and towards one of the old storage barns by the Collegium wall. The windows are alight with the glow of many lanterns and music can be heard from within.

"What has Lily orchestrated now?" Regina bemoans, wondering how much trouble they will be in if the older Heralds find them out here with smuggled liquor. Jefferson just laughs at her before prying open the barn door, his arms above his head as he declares quite victoriously,

"The Princess has graced the party!"

A chorus of cheers goes up and Emma forgets to grumble at the title simply because everyone is absolutely _drunken_ with festive joy. A trio of bards play their instruments and sing jaunty tunes, the many young Heralds and trainees around them singing along and knocking their mugs together. Those that aren't singing are talking loudly with their friends, chattering and laughing, spread out around the room so that every nook and cranny is occupied.

Jefferson dives into the happy chaos and resurfaces moments later with an armful of mugs, handing them out to the newest arrivals and tipping a very full bottle of liquor into each. "Drink, drink," he encourages gleefully, "Have some fun! How often do we get to throw parties?"

Ava and Nick require no coercing, happy to partake in something they've rarely tasted as they quickly go off in search of their other friends in the crowd. Baelfire doesn't seem to mind either way and sips at his drink as he surveys the party. Regina looks somewhat disgruntled but doesn't argue when Emma shrugs at her and takes a drink as well.

"Look who made it!" Lily crows, appearing from out of nowhere to sling her arm around Emma's shoulders and squeeze her close. The blonde laughs while Regina narrows her eyes.

"How exactly did you manage to sneak all this alcohol past the Collegium gates?"

"Oh, easy," Lily says, grinning. "My mother helped."

"Mal supported this?" Regina says incredulously, nose wrinkling in disbelief. Lily just jerks a thumb towards the other side of the room.

"Hell, she's here to _supervise_ us," she laughs, at the same time Herald Mal looks their way and brightens immediately.

"Regina! Come drink with me!" the older woman shouts, a sloppy hand waving in the air and a pleasantly drunken smile on her lips. Regina looks to Emma and the blonde just chuckles.

"Go on, say hello to Herald Mal. I'll be around with Bae."

Reluctant, Regina wades off through the crowds, Lily close on her heels as if daring to see how much she can irritate Regina without getting set on fire. Emma watches them with an amused smile before feeling Baelfire tap at her elbow.

"Come on, let's find someplace to sit," he suggests. They join Ava and Nick near the center of the room to enjoy the bardic entertainment for a while, getting through three more mugs of spirits each before climbing their way up to the hay loft for a break an hour later. Baelfire has a half-full bottle in his hands and passes it to her as he leans back against a hay bale, sitting sideways so that he can peer over the edge at the party down below. Emma swings her legs over the edge and takes a swig, now used to the burn of the alcohol as it goes down.

"What do you think of Lily?" Emma asks after a while, catching sight of the willowy brunette chatting with her yearmates. Baelfire wiggles his fingers for the bottle and she hands it to him.

"Perfectly nice," he says with a shrug. "Why do you ask?"

"I think I've a crush on her," Emma declares after a moment, liquor making her bold. Baelfire nearly snorts up the mouthful he'd taken.

"You think? You don't know?" he asks once he's swallowed. She shakes her head.

"Well, I've never had a crush before. What should it feel like?"

"Uh, well..." He gives her an odd look. "Like you are attracted to them, I suppose. You want to be near them often, to receive their attention and affections."

Emma turns her intent gaze on him. "Have you felt like that towards someone before?"

"That..." Clearing his throat, he rubs at the back of his neck. "Sure."

"Who?"

"You can't just ask someone that, little swan."

"Come now, Bae. Tell me! We're friends, aren't we?"

"Sure we are." He sighs. The alcohol clouds his judgement enough that he does not fear the potential fallout as he normally would. "You."

"Me what?"

"Havens, Emma," he says, throwing his hands up. "I have a crush on you!"

"Oh."

She looks startled, confusion marring her brow. Baelfire blushes deeply and takes another pull from the bottle.

"Your silence is worrisome," he says eventually, frowning. "You needn't feel the same way, I'm simply telling you the truth. We can still be friends, can't we?"

Emma's lips purse in contemplation. "I care about you a lot too, Bae. I like to be near you and to have your attentions. Is that the same thing?"

"Your naivety is astounding," he deadpans. Emma promptly slaps him on the chest.

"I've no experience on the matter! Don't make fun of me." She pouts and he laughs.

"I'm sorry, little swan. If it helps, I think that a kiss can tell you a lot about your feelings. It either feels right or it doesn't."

Green eyes glimmer with amusement. "Or perhaps you're just trying to get me to kiss you."

"Perhaps."

She leans in regardless, meeting him halfway as they kiss for the first time. It's chaste, their lips pressing together a little firmer, his stubble scratchy against her face and a feeling of distinct awkwardness creeping upon both of them. She pulls away and he wrinkles his nose, and shortly thereafter they're laying side by side howling with laughter, arms around their bellies and tears at the corners of their eyes.

"Oh, how wrong I was," Baelfire wheezes, a hand pressed to his forehead. "Havens, I think you are more like a little sister to me, for how uncomfortable that felt!"

"I think I am far more inclined to one with a softer face than yours," Emma giggles, scrubbing the back of her hand against her lips. "How do you stand all that hair on your face?"

"Some find it quite handsome," Baelfire grins, stroking at his dark stubble and feigning injury when Emma only laughs harder at him. "You are no fair judge if you're only interested in the fairer sex!"

"I am entirely content with that." Swiping the stray tears from her eyes, Emma turns her head to grin at him. The sun-engraved pendant that he wears permanently now is visible where his tunic parts at the collar, and she grabs at her own swan-engraved one and rubs it between her fingers. "Siblings, then?"

"I am your brother from here on," he agrees with a nod. "And thank Havens for that!"

They burst into laughter again, which is how Lily and Regina finds them a moment later when they peek their heads up from the edge of the hay loft.

"What's so funny?" Lily asks while Regina just cocks an eyebrow at them.

They only laugh harder.

* * *

"No. Absolutely not! You can't make me."

"Emma." Snow sighs, exasperated, her fingers winding anxiously into Blanche's mane as the mare gives a long-suffering snort. Emma rides atop Bug next to her, and on her other side is David on Rolan. They don't often have time to go leisure riding together, just the three of them, so Emma had known something was up before the conversation even began.

"I will go on circuit just like any other trainee on internship," Emma says again with a roll of her eyes. "What kind of Herald would I be if I stayed in Court while my peers patrol the kingdom?"

"The future Queen," Snow deadpans.

"Everything you need to know to be Queen is learned by interning at Court," David adds helpfully.

"And field experience is only learned by interning on a circuit, father," Emma replies. "I want to have that before I get bogged down in all _Courtly_ matters. Can I not enjoy my freedom while I am still unburdened by a crown?"

"Going on a circuit just isn't safe for you right now," Snow insists. "After all that's happened—"

"Nothing has happened since," the blonde interrupts. "Karse has made no further moves, no one has been killed in a year, and no one's seen hide nor hair of Cora for even longer. I am in no danger, mother."

"Thinking like that is what could get you killed," David warns, concern etching his features. "You are the future Queen, Emma. Your life will always be in danger."

"I am perfectly capable of defending myself!" Emma huffs, exasperated. "Bug, surely you agree that we should be allowed to go on circuit?"

:: _I would very much like to go on circuit,_ :: Bug admits, his thoughts openly shared to those around him. Blanche squints at him and Rolan tosses his head.

:: _Please do remember that you carry the Heir to this entire kingdom,_ :: Blanche deadpans.

:: _You would risk her safety out on circuit instead of having her intern within the Court?_ :: Rolan questions, testily. Bug scoffs and tilts his head towards the older stallion.

:: _You and David went on circuit for your internship, did you not?_ ::

:: _Snow interned within the Court, like all future Queens should. Knowledge and cunning is far more important to them than field experience._ ::

"And that is where we differ," Emma interrupts, as their three Companions had been speaking openly for all three Heralds to hear. "Knowledge does not come easy to me and I am sooner blunt and truthful than I am cunning. Besides, I will choose my own council, my own advisors who will help me where I fall short. So should I not play to my strengths? Let me have my circuit. I will be a different kind of Queen."

With a nudge to Bug's flanks, they're off, dashing across the next stretch of hills as her parents lag behind.

"She is a wild child," David laments, but it is not without a wry smile and a fond little shake of his head. Snow can only nod in agreement, lips pursed together with worry.

"Are we really going to let her go on circuit? What if Cora decides to strike?"

"We'll make sure she is paired with a suitable Herald and given a safe route, far from Karse's borders. Bug is quick and quite strong, too. He'll keep her safe."

Snow sighs. "Why must she be so stubborn?"

"She gets it from you, my love."

* * *

The time of their internships grows ever near, and only a few short months before they're due to leave, a messenger brings grave news.

"An urgent missive from the Hardorn kingdom, your Majesty," the man says, bowing low as the letter is taken from his hands by a guard and brought over to the head of the table. They're just in the midst of a formal dinner, Emma and her parents, Regina at her side, Lord Joaidane in his Sunday best across from her, Dean Archibald, a few other Lords and Ladies of Haven, and Hulda - the envoy from Hardorn who has been visiting recently and making eyes at Joaidane, much to everyone's amusement. It's a bit of a business dinner, the adults speaking of Courtly matters and Emma and Regina trying to absorb as much information as they can, and so the interruption comes as a surprise as they'd asked to be undisturbed.

"Pardon me," Snow says apologetically to her guests, diverting her attention for a moment to read the letter in her hands, David leaning in to read over her shoulder.

"A missive from your kingdom?" Joaidane asks Hulda in polite surprise. The woman is homely, to say the least, perhaps once pretty in youth but now quite plain and unassuming, though she still smiles sweetly and bats her lashes at the slightly older man as if a young girl trying to flirt.

"I've not heard from my King since arriving here, perhaps he is checking in on our progress," she considers, looking momentarily worried by the thought. Emma thinks she has nothing to worry about; Hulda has been very succinct with going over trade agreements and discussing outsourced crops with her parents. The woman is smart and does her job well.

"I am quite sure he will be pleased with your work; you are very intelligent, lady Hulda."

Hulda beams with flushed pleasure and Joaidane smiles briefly, oblivious. Emma and Regina exchange a look because _really_ , Joaidane can be so dense sometimes.

"Oh," Snow says, the little gasp drawing the entire table's attention. "Oh, my."

"What is it?" Dean Archibald asks, face creased with concern. Snow seems to consider the guests at her table for a moment before standing and giving an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry to cut supper short this evening, my friends, but an urgent matter has come up."

It's a dismissal that the lords and ladies—including Joaidane—accept with polite nods and smiles, quickly seeing themselves out of the dining hall, a few Palace guards escorting them to make sure they find their way directly to the gates instead of wandering the Collegium grounds. When Hulda stands to leave, Snow motions for her to remain.

"I apologize, lady Hulda, but we will have to postpone discussing the remaining trade agreements until a later date. You may wish to return to Hardorn immediately."

"Has something happened?" Hulda asks, a note of alarm in her voice. Snow passes the letter down the table towards her while Emma and Regina watch in silent concern.

"King Brennan has been... assassinated," she says quietly, watching as the homely woman sinks into her chair, the color draining from her face.

"Oh. Oh no. But how—?"

"A Karsite assassin," David says when it's clear that Hulda's eyes are too wet with tears for her to properly read the letter now clutched in her hands. "Prince Killian struck them down before they could escape, but by then it was too late. King Brennan had already been killed. They believe the assassin used the poison from a Vkandis Viper."

"Oh. I... I must return immediately. Prince Killian will need to be crowned. There's still so much he needs to learn to properly rule Hardorn and— oh, gods, the poor King, bless his heart." She clutches the letter to her chest, flustered and pale, and Snow quickly calls for a guard to help escort her safely back to her guestrooms so that she can pack.

"We will have a carriage readied for you immediately," Snow says as she gently walks Hulda to the door, a guard on the other woman's side. "Please, send our condolences to prince Killian."

"Of course, of course," Hulda says, gathering her wits just long enough to remember her manners. She turns towards the table with a frantic curtsy, eyes passing over Regina to land on Emma. "It has been an honor to meet you, your Highness." She curtsies again to Snow. "Your Majesty."

And then she's gone, shuffling off with the guard and leaning heavily on his arm as if she might faint. Snow watches her go with a sympathetic grimace.

"The poor woman," she says, returning to the table.

"The poor _King_ ," Regina says, frowning. "The poison of a Vkandis Viper is immensely painful. He would have suffered greatly before death claimed him."

"Why would Karse send someone to assassinate the Hardorn king?" Emma questions. "I thought Cora's target was us. Valdemar."

"Unless Cora is working on her own, and there are others in Karse who are conspiring against Hardorn," says David, eyes dark. He and Snow fall quiet for a moment, considering what Brennan's death and Karse's involvement might mean for their countries' peace treaties.

When they both look up at Emma, she's scowling.

"Don't say it. This changes nothing. I am still going on circuit for my internship. Send me to the opposite side of the kingdom from Karse if it makes you feel any better." She stands and leaves before they can argue back. Sighing, Regina stands as well.

"You'll keep an eye on her?" Snow asks. Regina nods on her way out.

"Always."

* * *

With just a week left and their classes over, Emma and Regina spend their final days of Collegium life with Bug and Mercy in the Field, riding often and preparing themselves for more than a year away from home. Baelfire, Lily, Ava, and Nick join them on occasion, but mostly they've been left to meditate and relax alone.

Both young women are with their Companions in the stables, brushing them down and pampering them with treats when Herald Kathryn trots over, a saddle on each shoulder.

"Knock knock," the blonde Herald says with a smile, standing between their stalls. "I've got something for each of you."

Regina eagerly grabs the beautiful new saddle handed to her. Emma accepts it more tentatively, a confused "thank you" rolling from her tongue.

"Your very own Herald saddles," Kathryn explains, smiling as the girls examine their gifts with wide, awe-filled eyes. On each saddle, "Mercy" and "Bug" are carefully carved into the blue leather with silver filling. "I reckon you've more than ridden your share in the trainee saddles. From here on out, these are yours."

"Thank you, Herald Kathryn," Regina says softly, hugging the saddle to her chest for a moment.

"You two had best run them in a little before you leave for your internship, I'd hate to see you riding off with bruised backsides due to stiff leather," she chuckles, striding off with a wave of her hand. Regina and Mercy immediately gear up, eager to test their new equipment while Emma slings her saddle over Bug's back and fiddles distractedly with the buckles.

"Have you forgotten how to saddle a Companion?" Regina teases, peering across the stalls at her from over Mercy's flank. "Come on, Emma, that saddle will leave you limping on your internship if you don't start wearing it in now."

Grudgingly, Emma works on the straps. "We leave in a week."

"Indeed. Are you ready?"

Emma frowns, pulling the strap tight and readjusting it on Bug's back. "Not really."

"Well why not? You were so adamant about going on circuit." Leaving Mercy's side for a moment, Regina steps around Bug and sets her hands on her hips, examining her best friend with a calculating look. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me." With a roll of green eyes, Emma clambers up into the saddle. Bug gives a grunt of discomfort and Regina is quick to fix one of the straps Emma had neglected.

"Are you trying to injure Bug? Havens, Emma, talk to me."

She can see Emma trying to lead Bug out and promptly grabs the stallion's saddle, holding him in place with one hand while the other lands on Emma's knee.

"Emma."

"I won't see you or Bae or the others for more than a year," she finally sighs, knowing there is no stopping Regina once she's got her mind on something. "I'll be out there with some stuffy older Herald and spend the whole time missing my friends and family."

At that, Regina smiles wryly. "It's an internship, little swan. It's not meant to be fun and games. Think of it as a rite of passage; we all have to go through it. At least we'll be doing ours at roughly the same time. You'll see me again in a year, no more than two."

Emma exhales slowly, eyes dull. "I know that. I will miss you all the same."

"And I you," Regina says, squeezing her knee before moving away to climb atop Mercy. "Now come along, we've saddles to test out."

* * *

The day of their departure is a quiet one, mainly because everyone had kept quiet about when exactly the princess was leaving for her internship. ("Otherwise the entire Collegium would be here," David had laughed when asked, "and I need no witnesses when I cry as I see my little girl off.") True to his word, David is suitably teary-eyed when they all stand together just outside the Collegium's main doors on an early weekend morning, while Snow manages to keep her watery eyes from spilling over.

Their most beloved teachers and friends are there, Ruby and Belle, Kathryn and Mal, Joaidane and Baelfire, Ava and Nick. Lily is missing, oddly enough, and Emma is disheartened, but she's quickly distracted when Jefferson rides up on his Companion, already geared up with bags and equipment like they are.

"You're mentoring one of us?" Emma asks, lifting her brows at the older boy—a young man, really, but he has always been so quirky and playful, it's hard not to see him as another trainee instead of a fully grown Herald.

"I'm mentoring Regina," he says with a grin, twinkling his fingers at the brunette. "You and me, lovie, we'll be heading towards Rethwellan and circuiting around to Lake Evendim."

Regina tenses ever so slightly but nods, accepting their path. Rethwellan is south of Valdemar, and Lake Evendim to the west, which is in the opposite direction of Karse and Hardorn in the east. Besides, they are simply patrolling along their borders, never crossing them, so she has no need to worry about coming across foreign countrymen.

 _How things change_ , she thinks to herself with some amusement, that she now thinks of Valdemar as her homeland and Karse as foreign.

"I look forward to working with you," she says politely, reaching out to him. He leans down and they clasp arms, hands wrapped around forearms in a firm shake of comradery.

"And my mentor?" Emma asks her parents as she moves to them, scuffing her boots in the dirt and gravel.

"Should be here shortly," Snow says, smiling. "Now, you have everything you need?"

"The basic circuit kit," Emma nods, glancing at the many bags attached to Bug's saddle. "My weapons, tool kit, cloak and bedroll..."

"And the satchel of sweets I bought you?" David sniffs, having bonded long ago with his daughter over sugary confections and candies, much to Snow's exasperation. Emma nods again, tucking herself in under her father's arm and breathing in deeply of his familiar cologne, like freshly washed wool and birch shavings.

"Of course, father. I will save them for rainy days, to cheer me up and remind me of you."

He gives a wobbly smile and pulls her close, a hand cradling the back of her head as he presses his lips to her temple.

"I love you, sweetheart."

Nestled into his embrace, Emma thinks of how she will be without her parents for a year or more and feels tears sting at her eyes.

"I love you too, daddy," she mumbles for the first time into his shoulder, feeling him tremble briefly with emotion. She pulls back to give him a smile, then turns and melts into Snow's arms next, somewhat taller than her mother now but sinking into her arms all the same. "I love you too, mother. I'll miss you."

Snow really does cry then, she and David leaning into each other for support once Emma has released them and moved to say her goodbyes to the others. Joaidane is suspiciously glossy-eyed as she gives him a gentle hug, and he is quick to push Baelfire at her so that he can turn away and hide his tears. Baelfire just grins and ruffles her hair, ducking away as she swats at him.

"You'll miss me, won't you, little swan?" he teases as she smooths her hair back down.

"Not as much as you'll miss me, Bae," she sasses, sticking her tongue out at him. They share a laugh, but his smile is genuine when he slings an arm around her shoulder in a sideways embrace.

"That may very well be true," he chuckles softly, releasing her so that the twins can swarm her.

Next to them, Regina tentatively moves towards the Queen and Queen's Own, wishing to say some words of goodbye even as she has never quite understood what she's done to deserve their affections. She has Emma to thank for it, she supposes. Were she not best friends with Emma, surely they would have never paid her any attention at all.

"Thank you," she says, awkward and uncomfortable as Snow and David smile softly in her direction. "For... your kindness, and for trusting in me. I will not fail, and I will defend Emma always once we return."

"Oh, such formalities," Snow laughs, moving forward to pull the stiff girl into an embrace. "Good luck on your internship, dear Regina. Be safe out there. We look forward to the day you return to us as a fully fledged Herald."

David hugs her, too, his palm brushing against the back of her head and reminding her of her own beloved father, long gone. She is not used to people being concerned for her wellbeing, people other than Emma and Bae, and their well wishes bring a tear to her eye.

"Yes, well... thank you," she stutters, and then she hurriedly mounts Mercy and waits for their departure, glancing down only to exchange a bit of sass with Baelfire as he teases her too.

"Really, where is my mentor?" Emma huffs as she drags herself up into Bug's saddle. A thud of hoofbeats rounds the corner of the Collegium building and her question is quickly answered.

"Sorry I'm late," Lily grins, looking brilliant in her Whites, just as Drogo is geared up and ready to go beneath her. They pull up just next to Emma, the older brunette beaming with excitement. "I told you I'd take you on your internship one day, didn't I?"

"Lily!" Emma's expression is one of pure delight. Next to her, Regina suddenly looks quite ill.

"We're heading towards Iftel and the Northern Range," Lily boasts, as Bug and Drogo bump their heads together in friendly greeting. "I can't wait for you to see it. It's beautiful!"

"Regina," a soft voice says, a hand touching her knee, and Regina looks down to find Mal standing near. "Are you alright, dear? You look pale."

"I'm fine," Regina grits out, shooting Lily and Emma a filthy look before turning herself away from them. Nothing escapes Mal's inquisitive stare, however, and the Herald smiles indulgently while giving Regina's knee a solid pat.

"I always did sense something between you two," she murmurs, to which Regina stiffens and gives her old mentor a glare.

"Nonsense, Mal. Now are you here to say goodbye or to pester me with ridiculous ideas?"

Mal just laughs, clasping forearms with the trainee. "Good luck out there, dear. I trained you well, so I don't want to hear about any sudden firestorms out there, understand?"

"I have it under control," Regina murmurs, squeezing Mal's forearm back. The blonde smiles and nods, her smoky gray eyes glimmering with unsaid words.

"I know you do. Merry met, Regina, and merry meet again."

Mal steps back, joining the crowd of well wishers as Lily and Jefferson announce their departure and trot off for the gates. With their final goodbyes and parting waves, Emma and Regina trail off after their mentors, silent as the massive main gates of the Collegium walls loom over them. Passing beneath the archway and waving to the guards there, they pause just outside their home for the last handful of years, Bug and Mercy standing idle next to each other.

:: _Will you miss me?_ :: the stallion questions the other Companion, ears tilted in her direction. Mercy chuffs softly through her nose.

:: _Perhaps just a little bit,_ :: she teases him.

:: _Well I shall miss you greatly,_ :: Bug declares, holding his head up high and proud of his admission. Mercy's blue eyes twinkle and she swings her head over to nuzzle his cheek in a rare show of affection.

:: _I shall miss you too, you pest._ ::

Bug nearly glows. :: _Good. Merry met, sweet Mercy, and merry meet again._ ::

"This is it," Emma says softly, eyeing the city of Haven spread out before them. Lily and Jefferson are already trotting off down the hill into the heart of the city, allowing the trainees a moment to themselves.

"Indeed," Regina murmurs, unable to lessen the tension in her spine. She jumps slightly when Emma leans over and grabs her hand, twining their fingers together.

"I'll miss you most of all," the blonde declares, her usual smile absent, lips pressed tightly together. Never able to deny the younger girl, Regina relaxes minutely and manages a small, uncomfortable smile.

"What's to miss? You'll have Lily with you. You'll be fine."

Emma still does not understand why Regina hates Lily so, but she looks wounded nonetheless, lower lip jutting out when Regina does not meet her eyes right away. "Ginny..."

Regina sighs. She never could resist the blonde's pout.

"I'll miss you too, little swan. Though I suppose you will not be so little when I see you next."

Emma suddenly releases her hand, reaching behind her neck to unclasp her swan pendant necklace and offer it up.

"Switch with me, so that we will still be with each other out there."

"They're just trinkets, Emma."

"Humor me."

Shaking her head with a wry smile, Regina unclasps her tree of life pendant and swaps with Emma, each girl putting on their new necklaces and feeling the lingering warmth of the silver pendants resting against their chests.

"There," Emma says, a hand against her chest over the necklace, "now you are with me, as I am with you."

Regina just chuckles and holds up her right hand, fingers splayed out to show the blood oath scar marring her palm. "I've always been with you, Em."

The rare nickname brings a light blush to Emma's cheeks. They both glance down the hill, making out Lily and Jefferson's slowly retreating figures.

"No more than two years," Regina says. Emma hums.

"Don't look back, okay?"

"I won't."

They both squeeze their legs, spurring Bug and Mercy forward at the same time. Hair whipping behind them and the wind tugging at their Gray uniforms, they race each other into the city, Haven still quiet with the early morning light. Lily and Jefferson hear their approach and, before either girls can catch up, they spur their Companions into a gallop, taking off in separate directions to leave the city at different gates, their circuits in opposite directions. Without looking at each other again, Emma and Regina split up and race after their mentors, not to see each other again for nearly two years.

* * *

Their first year of internship is quite unremarkable. The kingdom is peaceful and—though not without hardships—they're relatively well off, and most of the towns and villages they go through are kind to them. Lily is thorough in patrolling each area they travel in and they end up handling all manner of disputes, from stolen sheep and crop disagreements to angry neighbors fuming about their children having run off together to elope. For all that Emma thought she knew the older brunette, Lily is stern and fair when dealing with the people, thoughtful in her decisions and respectful in her words no matter how angry others may get. She brings a kind of quiet force with her when settling disputes and Emma is entranced.

"How do you do it?" Emma asks one afternoon as they're making their way through another village. "Even when someone gets angry and stirs the crowd, you manage to talk them all down into a reasonable agreement."

"To be entirely fair, you are an Empath," Lily points out. "You can feel their emotions, and that makes dealing with them more difficult for you—but in the same regards, you have the ability to manipulate the emotions of a crowd, forcing them to be calm or cooperative. As for handling the people, it all comes with practice, so long as you keep your calm and remember not to take things personally. When they struggle in times of hardship, of lost crops or droughts or dead livestock, it's easy to blame others—to blame the Queen or her Heralds for what they may or may not have done in regards to trades and economics. Remember that they are suffering, and our job is not to make excuses, but to help where we can."

Emma hums under her breath, absently stroking Bug's mane as they plod along. "When did you get so wise?"

Lily snickers. "I have always been wise. I'm five years your senior, you know."

Emma groans. "Don't remind me."

* * *

The nights feel longest to Regina, in the hours after Jefferson retires to bed and snores softly in his bedroll, leaving Regina to stare up at the night sky with too many thoughts in her mind. She'd thought that the internship would keep her busy, learning as much as she can from Jefferson and their encounters out in the world, but the experience is easier than she'd expected and Jefferson is honestly surprised at how easily she adapts to everything and applies her academic knowledge to real life situations. She would be thrilled if not for the fact that she can never turn her mind off during the moments that his chatter isn't distracting her.

He is fond of the outdoors and they tend to camp outside as much as possible, seeking out waystations or making their way to an inn only when the weather turns unsavory. They're still in the tail end of summer and the autumn rains have yet to hit them, so tonight they make camp again, Jefferson collecting firewood while Regina sets up their bedrolls and wanders off for a bit of hunting. Her tracking skills and her aim with a bow is masterful and she has a pair of rabbits clutched in her hand by the time she returns, getting to work skinning them while her mentor tends to a growing fire. They don't speak much until after the meat has been cooked over the flames, sitting across from each other as they eat. Just a ways off, Mercy and Wonder—Jefferson's mare—graze in contented silence.

"So how do you feel?" he asks after a moment, picking at a bit of stringy meat from between his teeth. "This is... week six, isn't it?"

"I'm fine."

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "What's it going to take to get you to talk more, huh?"

"I am not all that sociable a person," Regina sighs, lowering her skewered meat to sip from her water flask. "I don't really know what else you want me to say."

"I don't know. Have any questions? Concerns?"

"None."

He squints at her. "You are a tough one to crack, Lady Mills."

Regina stiffens at the teasing title and glares up at him. "Don't call me that. I'm just Regina."

"Apologies." Holding up his hands in surrender, Jefferson says no more and tears into his cooked rabbit, knowing when to leave her be. Nothing else is said and once dinner is cleared away, they tuck into their sleeping rolls and settle down for the night, the fire on one side and their Companions cuddled up to them on the other.

Laying on her side with her back pressed against Mercy's flank, Regina folds an arm beneath her head and turns her chin up towards the stars, idly wondering if Emma is also looking at the stars at that very moment. Her free arm is curled against her chest, fingers toying with the swan-engraved pendant.

She wonders if Emma is thinking of her, or if she's too enamoured by Lily to think of anything else.

"I can hear you thinking," Jefferson mumbles, rolling to face her with a yawn. She frowns at him, their eyes reflecting the yellows and oranges of the dancing flames between them.

"Your Mindspeech is too weak for that," she reminds him snarkily. He laughs.

"A figure of speech, lovie. Tell me what has you always looking so dreadfully serious during the nights?"

When Regina does not respond for the longest time, merely flicking her gaze away, he continues with a wry smile.

"It's Emma, isn't it?"

Brown eyes snap back to him in surprise. "What?"

"Come now, I have two eyes and a functioning brain between them," he chuckles, "I know love when I see it. You love her, don't you?"

"Where in the world did you get such a foolish notion from?" she scoffs, her voice an octave higher with nervousness. "You and Mal are both ridiculous."

"Ah, Herald Mal sees it too!" He grins victoriously. "Why do you refuse to admit it? There is no shame in loving a fellow Herald, even if she is the Princess. Havens, you blood-bound yourself to her, right? All the more reason to love her, loyal as you are."

"You're delusional." Regina rolls over, cuddling closer to Mercy and tucking her hands in under the mare's warm flank. "Go to sleep, Jefferson."

"It's not healthy to deny your feelings," he persists, flopping onto his back and staring up at the stars. "Regardless of whether or not she reciprocates, you must tell her one day. Better to have tried than to spend the rest of your days in regret, wondering _what if._ "

Regina breathes in slowly, closing her eyes. "That is the most serious advice I've ever heard from you."

A soft chuckle drifts to her from the other side of the fire.

"Some of us learn the hard way, my friend."

* * *

The wind and rain is sharp against her face and Emma grumbles obscenities under her breath that would make even Baelfire blush as she drags herself up a steep incline, clinging to a thick tree root to haul herself over muddy rocks and back onto the upper bank. Her Grays are utterly ruined now and she flops weakly onto her back taking in great gulps of air before pushing herself into a sitting position, bones aching all over and mud dripping from her hair.

"Bloody livestock," she groans, using her forearms to push herself up to her feet since her hands are scraped raw after her third tumble in the woods.

:: _Are you alright, dearheart?_ :: Bug questions, though he is nowhere in sight. Emma surveys the terrain around her before deciding to trudge uphill.

: _Have Drogo tell Lily that the next goat who rams into me is going to be dinner._ :

:: _I do not think the goat's owner would appreciate that,_ :: Bug laughs, finally appearing through the trees, his hooves making noisy suctioning sounds as he plods through the mud. His white coat is smeared brown with dirt and he looks every bit as bedraggled as she does, though he doesn't seem to mind the mess so much.

"Where did the blasted thing go?" she asks aloud, hauling herself up into Bug's saddle and uncoiling another length of rope from his pommel. The last lasso she'd been using was lost in the muddy banks during her tumble and she refuses to go digging for it.

:: _This way, I believe._ ::

Bug leads the way, his progress slow as his legs get weighed down by the mud drying on his fetlocks. He tosses his head but his mane remains glued to his neck, drenched by the rain and sticky with mud.

"Mud monsters, the both of us," Emma sighs, tying a new loop in her rope as Bug tracks another goat through the wilderness.

:: _Perhaps Lily will agree to staying at an inn tonight,_ :: he suggests. :: _A proper bath would do us all good. There, I see the goat!_ ::

"Let's get the bastard," Emma says, tightening her legs around Bug's midsection as the stallion hurries forward, getting her in range. She throws the rope and shouts with victorious glee as it lands around the goat's neck, giving it a hard yank to tighten the loop and trap the infuriating creature. The little beast gives an angry scream and tries to jerk away, but Emma is ready for it and manages to stay in her saddle this time, quickly looping her end of the rope around the pommel and effectively tying him to Bug.

"About damned time," she mutters, relief in her voice as Bug starts back towards the farm, his amusement palpable. They pause just at the edge of the woods to grab the first goat Emma had tied to a tree earlier that day, leading both creatures back to their rightful home.

"Wow," says Lily once Emma and Bug finally catch up to them at the farm. The brunette has already returned three of the farmer's pet goats and now looks upon Emma with laughter in her eyes. "You look terrible, Emma."

"One more word and I will tackle you," Emma threatens, pointing a finger accusingly at Lily's surprisingly clean white coat while shoving the leading ropes into the hands of the very thankful farmer. "No thanks needed, we are happy to help," she directs politely enough at him, before turning to glare at Lily once more. "How did you manage to stay so clean out there? The bloody goat managed to headbutt me into a _ravine._ "

"Skill and finesse, dear swan," Lily says, at the same time Drogo snorts and shares,

:: _She changed her coat before you returned._ ::

"Traitor," Lily mutters, slapping her stallion on the shoulder. Emma squints at her friend and realizes that Lily's dark hair is scraggly with mud and her pants and boots are faring no better beneath her cloak.

"Tell me we can stay at an inn tonight," she moans, utterly relieved to see that the farmer has all five of his precious goats back in the pens again. She is so done with good deeds today. "I need a hot bath. I will die if I have to wash in another cold stream."

"Such dramatics," Lily chuckles. She turns away to speak with the farmer one last time, taking his gratitude in stride and then asking him if he knows of the next nearest town. With directions known, they clamber back upon their Companions and head off down the road. Emma's wool cloak is so soaked through at this point that she doesn't even bother with the hood, too heavy with rain. She just slicks her hair back into a ponytail and rests her eyes at half mast to shield herself from rain droplets, trusting Bug to keep an eye on their surroundings.

"Which way are we headed next?" she questions.

"Along the Northern Ridge, to the west. From there we'll head south again and towards Lake Evendim before we finally circle back to Haven."

Emma tilts her head up to survey the sky, the orange-blue of the fading sun slowly turning navy in color. "Winter will be upon us by the time we reach the mountains. We'll have to be very careful, won't we?"

"And you mock your own intelligence," Lily teases. "Yes, the Northern Ridge is known for being quite brutal during the winters. But so long as we stay the road and do not wander, we'll be just fine."

They come upon the next village within a candlemark, glad to find a relatively sizeable inn to spend the night at. Unsaddling their Companions, they wash them down and get them settled in comfortably in the attached stables before finally dragging themselves into the main building, stiff and cold and still dripping wet. A man tending the bar takes one look at their White and Gray uniforms and promptly turns towards the kitchens to bark,

"Tillie! We got Heralds!"

A racket sounds from the kitchen and, a moment later, a homely and excessively cheerful-faced older woman bounds out to meet them, her round cheeks flushed with delight.

"Oh! Heralds! Welcome, welcome! We don't get as many of you around here as we'd like. Please, come in, you must be freezing! Let's get you a bath first, hm?"

Tillie quickly ushers them through the back hall and into the tiled room in the back, shooing off a few of her hired hands to bring back buckets of boiled water to fill the copper tubs. The bathing room isn't as large as ones they've visited previously and so Emma finds herself blushing at the sight of the tubs sitting very closely together, her movements shy and stilted when Tillie tells them to strip down so that she can get their clothing washed.

"Weren't you the one eager to get in a hot bath? What's the hold up?" Lily asks, already sinking into a filled tub while Emma continues to delay stripping down.

"Hurry along now, you'll make yourself ill staying in those wet clothes," Tillie says, coaxing Emma along. Reluctant, the blonde strips quickly and hops into her own tub before Lily can see her for too long, sinking down until the water laps at her chin.

"You're getting more muscular," Lily notes, laughing when Emma abruptly slides down too far and splutters up water. "What's with you lately, Emma? Can't handle a compliment?"

She folds her arms along the rim of her tub and rests her chin atop them, grinning at the younger woman as Tillie flutters around them, setting bath salts and soaps and towels within their reach. Emma wipes water from her face and cannot stop the flush that reaches her cheeks.

"Not when you notice things like that," Emma complains, darting her hand out of the water long enough to grab a bar of soap before returning to her hiding place, avoiding Lily's gleaming eyes as she tries to clean herself beneath the cloudy cover of water.

"Like what? Your biceps and the muscle indent of your hips? Very nice form, by the way."

"Stop it," Emma scolds, even her ears red now as she tries to scrub mud from her hair. Lily's laughter is bright and tinkling as she focuses on cleaning herself too. When they're both sufficiently clean and warmed to the bone, they hop out and towel off, dressing in borrowed shifts for the night as Tillie herds them out to a table near the fireplace and sets down soup, bread, and cheese before them. It's basic fare but having hot food in their bellies is a luxury they haven't indulged in for a few weeks now, not since the last inn they stayed at.

"Hey, don't pass out till we've made it to bed," Lily jokes when she notices Emma's head bobbing ever so slightly, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The blonde blushes again, wrinkling her nose as she mops up the remains of her soup with a chunk of bread and stuffs it into her mouth.

"I haven't been this tired in a while," Emma sighs, leaning back to pat a hand against her full belly. "I fell in a ravine twice today."

"I thought you said the goat pushed you in just once?"

"Yes—and Bug accidentally pushed me in the second time."

Lily snorts with laughter.

"Let's ask Tillie about our rooms before you pass out right there in your seat."

She scoops up their used dishes, taking them back to Tillie by the kitchen doorway as Emma shuffles along behind her. The elderly woman looks momentarily apologetic when asked about lodging.

"We've got just the one available right now, I hope that's alright," she says, leading them up the narrow staircase and down the second floor hallway. "There are two beds, of course. Here it is. Your washed clothes will be left just by the door for you tomorrow. Is there anything else I can get for you two?"

"No, this is wonderful, thank you." Lily's smile is warm and Emma finds herself leaning heavily against the wall, watching Lily more than Tillie.

"Excellent. We'll see you in the morning then—goodnight!"

Tillie toddles off and Lily leads the way into their room, watching as Emma shuffles straight to the nearest bed and sprawls face-down upon it with a long groan.

"If you wake me any earlier than a candlemark before sunrise, I will beat you," the blonde warns, her voice muffled against the sheets. Lily slides into the second bed and grins.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Sweet dreams, princess."

Emma lifts her head only long enough to shoot Lily a filthy look for the title, getting nothing but a playful snicker in response.

* * *

They're traveling along Rethwellan's border through the Pelagirs Forest when autumn transitions into winter, turning the wind cold and the skies gray. The terrain is less forgiving here and their pace slows, though there are a greater abundance of Waystations to shelter them in the nights as even Jefferson isn't crazy enough to camp under the stars anymore.

"How long until we reach Lake Evendim?" Regina asks as they plod along a worn path, Mercy and Wonder's hooves light and thumping out a melodic rhythm. Jefferson seems to consider their location in relation to the stars for a moment, tapping at his chin. It's still light out but the skies are relatively clear and the stars are visible.

"Another couple weeks, three at most depending on our speed. The deeper parts of this forest is known to house bandits so we tend to set a hard pace to dissuade them from coming after us. We'll likely have our Companions going at a steady canter through those areas."

Regina nods in understanding. Unlike normal horses, Companions have legendary stamina and can gallop for hours, even days straight if pushed that far. So long as a confrontation isn't necessary, they can easily outrun any trouble.

"Where do you think Emma and Lily are at now?" she asks, trying to be as casual as possible. Jefferson shoots her an amused smile but does not tease her on the matter.

"The route along the Northern Ridge is a relatively long one. I'd say they're likely a third of the way through there. So long as they don't get delayed by the weather, they should reach the opposite side of Lake Evendim at around the same time as us. We may even cross paths with them as we all circle back around to Haven."

Regina seems to brighten up at the idea, and then immediately deflates a little, sighing.

"You are ridiculous, I hope you know that," he says, shaking his head with a fond smile and ignoring the glare she shoots his way. "I'm quite certain she has feelings for you too."

"She is foolishly smitten with Lily is what she is," Regina mutters under her breath, but he hears her regardless. "And now they're traveling the world together, just the two of them."

"An internship is anything but romantic," Jefferson chuckles. "Trust me, she will light up like the sun when you two are reunited. There's always been a sort of pull between you two."

"A pull?" She eyes him.

"Almost like a..." He trails off, the smile fading from his lips as his head tilts to one side.

"Jefferson?"

"Shh."

Wonder stops quite suddenly, her ears pricked and her eyes wide. Mercy does the same, tail lashing nervously at the sudden silence surrounding them, not even a bird chirp to be heard.

: _Fly,_ : Jefferson projects to Regina and both their Companions, his Mindvoice urgent. Wonder and Mercy bolt forward without question, dashing along the path while their riders lean down low over their necks and hang on tightly. For a moment all they can hear is the steady chime of their Companions' hooves on the packed dirt, but soon the thud of normal horse hooves join the beat from all around them.

: _Keep your head down and be prepared to shoot if you must,_ : Jefferson directs at Regina, already unhooking his bow from the back of his saddle and pulling out an arrow. Regina does the same, her thighs clamping down hard around Mercy's sides to stay seated as she notches an arrow and glares at the surrounding forestry.

: _I don't see them,_ : she thinks, squinting for a glimpse of the enemy.

: _They're trying to herd us further into their territory. We've got to break through their ranks before we can outrun them. We'll follow the path to the right. Are you ready?_ :

: _Yes._ :

Wonder suddenly veers off down the right path and Mercy follows her at a slight distance, just in time too as an arrow zips between them from out of nowhere, nearly clipping Wonder's tail but missing Mercy's nose by a few feet. Regina takes aim and fires blindly, and from the scuffle of hooves and the shout of surprise heard in the distance, she assumes she's startled one of the attackers but didn't manage to hit them.

: _Brace yourself!_ : Jefferson warns as they burst over an unmarked path, speeding right past a pair of outlaw riders who had been trying to herd them in the opposite direction. Swords glisten in the pale light of day and Regina feels the slice of air as Mercy effortlessly ducks away from one such swing. The outlaws shout fiercely and give chase, swords held aloft in hopes of catching up and slashing them off their Companions. Regina turns around and fires off two more arrows in quick succession, and though her aim is off since Mercy's frantic gallop jostles her, she manages to down one and clip the other in the shoulder.

: _Tuck down,_ : Jefferson orders, turning around to finish off the second outlaw with a well timed arrow before quickly leaning down himself and clutching his bow tight against his thigh. : _Wonder, go!_ :

Regina attaches herself to Mercy's neck and clings to her mane with one hand as their Companions race forward with all they have, the trees whizzing by quickly enough to make a normal person ill with motion sickness. The rest of the outlaws try to give chase but after twenty minutes at a dead gallop, they fall far behind and Regina and Jefferson break through the edge of the forest. Wonder and Mercy keep up the pace for another hour regardless, following the forest line and keeping their ears pricked for other forms of life before finally slowing to a walk.

"Look at that, you actually got to see a bit of action during your internship," Jefferson jokes, his eyes gleaming, almost wild with adrenaline. Regina keeps a tight hand on her bow and does not find the situation nearly as humorous as he does. They didn't exactly stick around to see the aftermath, but she's quite sure she killed at least one man and the thought has her stomach turning. They've spoken of wars and combat in their lessons and the older Heralds have never shied away from telling stories about their lives as peacekeepers, about the truth of their jobs, but actually _killing_ someone? She'd never truly thought about what that would feel like, not until now.

"What? What's wrong? Did you get hit?" Jefferson pats at his mare's neck and she slows enough for them to come up next to Mercy, his eyes quickly scanning Regina's body for injuries.

"I'm not injured," the brunette snaps, gritting her teeth as her stomach roils quite suddenly. She can clearly remember the _thud_ of her arrow landing squarely in the center of the man's chest and sending him toppling off of his horse, a horse running at dangerous speeds. If the shot didn't killed him right away, the fall definitely would have. She fears she might actually throw up for a moment.

"Oh," Jefferson says, his expression changing when it dawns on him. "Oh. That was your first kill, wasn't it?"

Regina says nothing, just breathes deeply through her nose in an attempt to quell the nausea.

"Hey, it's alright. It's always jarring, the first time. But he was trying to kill us first; it was self defense."

"Stop talking, Jefferson," she says through her teeth, her free hand curling around her stomach. He sighs and motions for Wonder to lead the way again, saying nothing more until they reach the next Waystation a few miles ahead just before nightfall. They both silently tend to their Companions, washing them down and bringing out buckets of grain and water before finally retiring into the little Waystation hut.

Jefferson starts on a fire in the pit while Regina pulls out furs from the bins and layers them up in the bedboxes. Dinner consists of some jerky, nuts, and dried fruits from the supply bin—recently stocked by the neighboring village, it seems, as the food isn't stale or frozen from the cold yet. Jefferson goes out a second time and collects a bit more wood to keep the fire going through the night before moving to retire, kicking off his boots and climbing underneath a pile of furs in one of the bedboxes.

"You should get some sleep," he says, peering across the small one-room cabin at where Regina sits curled up by the fire, her arms wrapped tight around her legs, almost rocking slightly in place. When she doesn't reply, he gets up with a sigh and joins her by the fire, sitting close enough that the flames dance in his silvery blue eyes. No conversation is made, just a companionable silence as he waits for her.

Eventually, she shifts and lowers her head, chin resting on her knees.

"You were saying something earlier, before we were interrupted."

"Sorry?"

"About Emma and I. What were you going to say?"

Jefferson blinks slowly at her. "Oh. That. You actually want to know?"

When she just stares blankly at him from the other side of the flames, a silent request for a distraction—something, anything to take her mind off of the fact that she'd murdered someone—he sighs and makes himself comfortable. "I was going to say that you two might be Lifebonded. Certainly seemed that way to me."

"Lifebonded?" She's heard of it in passing, but it was never a subject of importance nor part of their education. "I recognize the term. What is it?"

"It's... kind of like a Herald-Companion bond, I suppose, except it's with another person. It's rare, too—happens to very few of us. You look them in the eye for the first time and the bond is forged, like two souls getting permanently tied together. It could be familial, platonic, romantic... whichever it is, that person becomes an important part of you, and much like the Herald-Companion bond, if one dies, the other will be utterly devastated. It's like losing half of your soul."

Brown eyes are wide with something akin to terror. "That's horrible."

"It can be wonderful, if it's nurtured and cherished," Jefferson says, lowering his eyes. "But yes, it can be horrible too. If you deny a Lifebond, or if you lose a Lifebond prematurely, you're never really the same after. It changes you forever."

His chest heaves. Regina slowly lifts her head to regard him with softened eyes. "Months ago, when you said you 'learned the hard way'..."

His lips twitch up into the faintest of smiles. "Her name was Alice."

"You were Lifebonded to her."

"Yes." His eyes flicker up again, reflecting the orange flames. Regina realizes now why she's always seen a touch of madness in his eyes—why he always looks just a little wild, like his mind is elsewhere and yet his gaze too sharp, too wide.

"What happened to her?"

The answer is exactly what she fears it is. "She died."

His adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly, lips pressing together for a moment as his gaze goes unfocused, mind drifting elsewhere.

"She always had her mind in the clouds, Alice. A daydreamer. I don't think she realized—we were best friends and we thought we were going to go through everything together. I realized I loved her in fourth year. I thought I'd tell her how I felt when we were older, after we did our internship and got our Whites."

He shifts, chewing on his lower lip, staring absently into the fire.

"She... She had an accident that year. Always an explorer, her and her Companion. The Heralds had warned us away from the ponds out past the Grove, said critters had gotten into the place and dug up holes and tunnels everywhere that needed to be tended, but she wasn't going to be deterred. They went for a ride and... Alice loved that pond, you see. There's a willow tree out there that hangs over the water, and in the spring time, fireflies occupy those reeds. They loved riding around that pond."

His voice tightens and Regina already knows how this story is likely to end.

"Her Companion collapsed one of the tunnels right under his hoof, broke his ankle going down hard, and Alice went flying. It was... a terrible accident. The Healers, their magic is something else, but even a Healer can't bring someone back from a broken neck."

Jefferson pushes a hand through his dark hair, makes a strangled little laughing sound, and gives her this forced smile from across the fire.

"I never got to tell her."

Regina opens her mouth to apologize, to sympathize, to say _something_ , but Jefferson jumps to his feet with a jittery shrug and moves towards his bedbox again while pointing a finger at her.

"Tell Emma. You or she could die any day, don't die without knowing that your Lifebond loves you too. Having a part of your soul ripped in half is painful enough without spending the rest of your life wondering _what if._ "

He disappears beneath a mound of furs. Regina stares at him with wet eyes.

:: _Do not fret,_ :: an unfamiliar voice enters her mind, and it takes her a moment to recognize it as Wonder. :: _He will be his usual self come morning._ ::

She sounds sad, resigned. Regina aches for the both of them.

:: _He is right, though. Do not deny what your heart knows. If you miss the chance to tell your beloved, you may suffer the same fate, and it is not a fate I would wish upon anyone._ :: There is a shuffle from outside, and Regina turns around to see the mare peering through a slit in the window, her sad blue eyes gazing at the lump that is Jefferson. :: _The moment Alice died and the Death Bell tolled, he collapsed right where he was in the middle of class, screamed like he had been torn in half, and went comatose for a month. The heartbreak almost killed him, and that would have killed me too. He lives as only a portion of a soul now._ ::

: _I'm sorry,_ : Regina thinks back weakly, dragging herself up and into her own bedbox. Burrowing beneath the warm furs only brings her a morsel of comfort from the shard of ice that has lodged itself into her heart.

:: _Do not be sorry for us, dear girl,_ :: Wonder tells her gently, :: _just don't make the same mistake._ ::

* * *

Snow comes down in heavy gusts by the time Emma and Lily are rounding the Northern Ridges well into winter, and though Emma has come to love her mother very dearly, she has to admit that she hates her namesake. The white flakes have long since soaked through the thick wool of their cloaks, and though Lily's suggestion to slip hard plates of leather between their cloaks and their uniforms have kept them relatively dry underneath so far, her skin is still prickling from the cold hovering just a finger's width away.

"It's getting heavier," she says after a few hours of companionable silence, brushing the snowflakes from her eyelashes after tilting her head up to glance at the sky.

"I know." Lily frowns, rubbing at her reddened nose. "It's not looking good. But I worry that we may get snowed in if we stop at a Waystation now."

"We'll have to stop at one eventually," Emma reminds her, the older woman's uncertainty making her anxious. "Surely we can dig ourselves out in the morning."

Lily grimaces, assessing their location for a moment before giving a slow nod. "Alright. We'll want to stop a little early today then, gives us time to prepare. Drogo, do you remember the nearest Waystation from here?"

:: _I believe I do,_ :: he confirms, leading the way. The stockier Companion takes them further up towards the mountains, heading into the trees where the grounds are easier to navigate because there is less snow.

The Waystation isn't too far and they get to work immediately to collect firewood and latch up the windows, making sure they have everything they need to prepare for the morning. The Waystations in the mountains are larger, with a much bigger door and two stalls within to shelter the Companions from the harsh winters. Bug and Drogo seem relieved to be indoors, their heads in buckets of grains while Emma and Lily bring in as much wood as they can find in the surrounding area. It's all relatively damp, but they plan to give it time to dry while starting up a fire with the dry firewood already stocked within the building.

"Do you think anyone else has been here recently?" Emma asks as she locates a pair of shovels in one of the larger supply bins and props them up by the door for tomorrow.

"Since this station's last resupply? Possibly. Some of the wood is still a little damp." Lily takes a few dry logs from the supply pile and dump them into the fire pit in the middle of the room while Emma resupplies the pile with their new damp branches. "Check the food, would you?"

Emma peers into the rations bin. "Enough for days still, though the Heralds before us clearly did not like apricots. Those have been untouched."

Lily laughs and shoulders her aside to grab a dried apricot from the container, tossing it into her mouth before returning to the fire. "It's a good thing I like apricots."

The night passes uneventfully and, though the buildup of snow at the door is to be expected, they still spend the better part of the morning digging a way out. They're both exhausted and sore by the time they're free, sitting heavy in their saddles as Drogo and Bug map their way. Emma's hands lay limp in her lap and she's quite sure her arms will hurt by tomorrow.

"Is it always so heavy?" she questions the other woman, tilting her head towards the sky. Lily glances over and grimaces slightly.

"Not quite. The snow is already higher than we've seen it in a few years."

She sounds weary, fingers tapping at her saddle in a nervous gesture that catches Emma's eye. Their Companions say nothing, both stallions too focused on carving a path through the thickening snow underfoot.

"Well, there's some good news, at least," Lily says, perking up another few hours into their journey. She's staring off into the near distance with a smile playing on her lips, and even Drogo seems to pick up speed, his ears pointed forward and his strides bouncy.

"What? What is?"

"Come on, you'll see, little swan." They forge on ahead, detouring from the path—or what they think is the path, anyway, as it's all hidden by snow—and begin climbing the terrain into the trees. It looks like they're scaling a small mountain and though Emma is cold and cranky and tired, she purses her lips and says nothing, trusting that Lily has some destination or purpose in mind. Half an hour into the hike, however, and she feels her patience waning.

"Where are we going, Lily? The next village is three days that way." She points her finger to the left despite the fact that Lily is ahead of her with her back turned.

"Hmm?" Lily blinks, obviously distracted by a private conversation with Drogo. She sits up and cranes her neck around to shoot Emma an apologetic smile. "Sorry; we're almost there."

"Where is there?"

"Oh, have a little faith!"

"I'm merely thinking ahead," Emma says dryly. "The weather is getting worse and we're still hours away from the next Waystation."

:: _I for one do not relish the thought of being caught in a snowstorm,_ :: Bug adds.

"Look at you, already acting like a responsible Herald," Lily laughs. "Relax, Emma. We'll be back on track with plenty of time to spare."

"Well if you would just tell me where we're going—" Emma breaks off a moment later, the words dying from her lips as the trees part suddenly to reveal a cliffside. There's just enough room for both Companions to walk gingerly to the edge, looking out across a glittering frozen lake a great drop below. Eyebrows climb her forehead as she leans over Bug's neck to get a better look. "What in Haven's name?"

"That," Lily says with a smug smile, "is known as Lake Nostos."

"It's beautiful," Emma murmurs, blinking in the sight with a still-shocked expression. It's like coming across a hidden gem, uninhabited except by nature itself. Neatly tucked in by thick green pines on all sides, the frozen lake glitters brightly in the pale winter sun, its undisturbed surface shining like a diamond. Every tilt of her head makes the glittery reflections bounce multiple colors at her, blues and pinks and yellows dancing across the ice in little flashes. She's never seen something quite so pretty before and the sight has her entranced.

"Knew you'd like it," Lily chuckles, peeling her gaze away from the lake to take in Emma's awestruck expression. "Legend has it that the water has magical properties."

"What kind of magical properties?"

"It can _restore what has been lost_ ," she recites softly. "The Companions are quite sure that it's just a silly story, but I like to believe it."

Emma finally turns to give Lily a curious look. "What would you use the water for?"

The brunette hums under her breath, the hum turning into a sigh as she smiles wryly and shrugs beneath the weight of her coat and cloak. "Nothing. But sometimes I imagine what it would be like if it could give me back my father."

"He... died before you were born, didn't he?" Emma asks, just as ignorant of the truth as Lily is. Lily nods, eyes faraway.

"Killed during a fight with bandits. They told me he was very brave. My mother misses him fiercely; she cries on the anniversary of his death, every year."

Emma licks at dry, chapped lips and looks back at the lake. "I'm sorry. I wish the lake could bring him back for you."

Lily just laughs softly. "As do I. I know it cannot truly give me back what has been lost, but I like to imagine it anyway." She shakes her head. "Would you use it, if the water really were magical?"

"I don't know." Emma thinks of her past, of a stolen childhood and of all the lost time with her parents. Even if the water could give it back to her, she's not sure she would take it. "The loss I've gone through has made me who I am. I don't think I would want to change that at all."

When she looks to her side again, Lily is considering her with soft eyes.

"You continue to surprise me," the brunette says, a hint of teasing in her voice. She tugs on the reins and brings Drogo around. "Come on, let's get going."

* * *

A full-body shiver runs up her spine from tailbone to neck. With a groan of discomfort, Regina shakes it off and burrows just a little further into her thick cloak, clutching the fabric of the hood around her neck to combat the uncomfortable tingling at the back of her spine.

"What was that?" Jefferson asks with a laugh, knocking his shoulder against hers as they plod side-by-side through the streets. They're wandering the streets of a relatively populated city while Mercy and Wonder stay behind at an inn to eat and rest, using their modest allowance from their time at the Collegium to treat themselves to snacks and mead. Jefferson has a mug of hot mead clutched in his hands and Regina can feel the weight of the sweet orange she'd bought sitting in her pocket for later.

"It's cold," Regina mutters, shrugging.

"You were fine earlier, and it's really not that cold here, not like in the mountains." He contemplates her for a moment, tapping a finger to his chin before his eyes light up. "Ah! It must be Emma. They should be quite a ways into the Northern Ridge by now. Sometimes, senses or emotions can pass between Lifebonds if situations are extreme enough."

"Then she must be very cold," Regina says, brows furrowing with concern. The feeling had only lasted a few short minutes, but she can still remember the lingering prickle of ice hovering over her skin in the most unnerving of ways, and now there's a strange warmth within her belly that has her feeling slightly flushed. "Will they be alright?"

"Relax, Lily has been on that circuit before, she knows how to stay safe in that weather." He slurps noisily at his hot mead, eyes panning across the lively streets. They're passing through the main square, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with the people as they browse the many vendors and pause to take in a puppet show. Regina grows restless and fidgety, hugging herself and chewing on her lower lip.

"Are you alright?" he questions, amusement giving way to concern at the way she looks genuinely uncomfortable.

"I'm fine, Jefferson." She straightens up as a few people approach them, one man asking for their council on some matter regarding a simple cow thief. With a gesture, she nods at him to go on ahead. "I will circle the main square again and see if anyone else needs us for anything," she says, and with one more nod he leaves with the villagers.

:: _I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, darling,_ :: Mercy offers, having shared in the strange twinge of discomfort Regina currently suffers. :: _Emma is probably just getting into a little bit of mischief as always._ ::

: _You're probably right,_ : Regina agrees, though from the heaviness in her chest and the general unease coursing through her veins, she is not sure she wants to know what Emma is going through right now.

* * *

"Shit. Emma! Are you alright?"

Emma hisses through her teeth, eyes squeezed shut as snow and ice continues to fall around her. She holds herself very still until it stops, then dares to open her eyes and take in the white nothingness around herself. The cold is already seeping right through her coat and into her bones, wet and icy.

"I'm fine," she says carefully, feeling her own breath against the snow just inches from her face. "Can you pull me out?"

Her hands are stretched out ahead of her and she wiggles her fingers, gesturing for help. A moment later and she can feel Lily's hands close around hers.

"Keep your head tucked down. Ready? One, two—"

Both women grunt, Lily yanking hard and Emma bursting out from the snow where it had caved down on her. They stumble through the main door and back into the Waystation, bumping into each other before finding their footing and turning to assess the exit. They'd woken up after staying the night at a Waystation only to find it completely snowed in. Emma had managed to carve into it a little, but the snow piles up high enough to rise over the roof and the likelihood of them digging a path through the wall to get out is zero to none at this point.

"I c-can't get through that," Emma says, teeth clattering hard together as she bats the melting snow from her shoulders and back. Her coat is soaked through and she regrets not having put on her cloak and leather shoulderpads before trying to dig out their exit this morning.

"Looks like we're not going anywhere for a while," Lily sighs, picking up the discarded shovel and kicking the fallen snow back out over the threshold before shutting the door. "Damn it, I had really hoped the weather would be kind to us this year."

"It's not so bad. W-We can think of this as a short break from our circuit." Emma shivers fiercely, her shoulders jumping up as a tremor runs up her spine. Lily frowns at her and immediately goes to add more wood to the fire.

"Take that coat off and get over here before you make yourself ill."

Shedding the wet coat and dumping it aside, Emma sits next to the fire with a groan, hovering as close as she dares in an attempt to dry her undershirt. "We'll be fine, right, Lily?"

"Of course we will."

That day turned to night, and that turned into four more nights of slowly shoveling away at the wall of snow outside the door to little avail. What had started out powdery and light turned heavy and rock-hard when it finally rained, and by the fifth night, they were chipping away at an ice wall with the measly shovels the Waystation had been equipped with.

"We should have kept going and pushed our way to the nearest village," Emma laments on the seventh day, her arms sore and her hands calloused from stabbing away at the ice. It's a wonder her shovel hasn't broken yet.

"If we had, we would have gotten lost and frozen to death. The snowstorms out here are nothing to be trifled with, Emma."

Lily stands a little further within the building, arms crossed and lips pursed as she watches Emma work.

"Step back a moment. I've an idea."

Glad for the reprieve, Emma sets the shovel aside and drops down next to the cold firepit. They've had to start rationing their firewood, starting a fire only to keep them warm at night when they're not trying to keep warm during the day by moving around.

Lily glances to her Companion and Drogo shuffles towards the door a moment later, nodding his large head at their private conversation. He turns around and backs up until his rear is out of the door, then with a heavy snort, he kicks a hind leg out at the ice wall. There's a satisfying crack as he breaks through the frozen snow, leaving a hole in the wall, though his ears twitch and he settles a look on his rider.

:: _You'll need to bind my legs if I'm to pick away at this wall, Chosen,_ :: he tells her. Lily retrieves a few scraps of hide and rope from the supply bins and promptly wraps up his hind legs, looking relieved as he starts working away at the wall again, bit by bit.

:: _Tell me when you tire and I will switch with you, friend,_ :: Bug tells the other stallion, looking rather excited by the prospect of actually doing something again. They've been cooped up in a small building with no room to move for a week now and he is nearly twitching for action.

"How long do you think that will take?" Emma asks, glancing up as Lily walks over to her and drops down next to her.

"If they take turns, they may be able to break us out in another few days." Lily looks over at their remaining wood pile and Emma does the same. "We'll have to be very careful with what firewood we have left."

"And if we run out?"

"We'll figure something out."

Three days later, that meant huddling together to keep warm. Bug and Drogo had made good progress but they were still a ways off from escaping the Waystation, :: _Another night or so_ ,:: Bug had offered apologetically. Emma just curled closer against Lily's chest and focused on the practicality of it rather than her nearness with someone she's always idolized in a way, trying to leech what little warmth she could from the older girl. They had a few logs left and couldn't afford to use them unless absolutely necessary.

"You alright?" Lily asks, her voice rough from misuse. It's late, well past midnight, and they've been curled together in silence for hours, unable to sleep as their bodies take turns shivering from the cold. Bug and Drogo are both dozing in their stalls, taking a well needed break. Leather wraps or not, their hind legs are bruised and tender from an entire day of smashing their hooves through the ice.

"Fine. Y-You?" Emma tries to keep the stutter out of her voice to little avail. Her insides feel like ice and despite being buried beneath multiple layers of furs with Lily, she's not getting any warmer.

"Cold." Lily grunts, shifting around in discomfort. Emma rolls over to face her, their faces just inches apart. With the Waystation buried in snow and the fire out, there is no light to see by, only the soft puff of each other's breaths to prove that they're facing each other.

"Should we get a small fire going?"

Lily sighs. "We only have two logs left for an emergency. Besides, I can't see a thing."

Emma shivers again, groaning softly. "This feels like an emergency. I can't fall asleep like this, I'm too cold."

"Me too," the brunette admits with a soft puff of laughter. "My teeth are chattering."

Emma curls her arms up to her chest and fiddles with her necklace, gently dragging the tree of life pendant back and forth on the thin chain and wondering where Regina is right now. Is she at a Waystation as well, or is she warm and safe at an inn somewhere?

"What's that sound?" Lily asks, snuggling a little closer.

"Just my necklace. Sorry."

"Mm. The matching one you have with Regina and Baelfire?"

"Yes. I hope they're doing alright."

"I'm sure they're fine. Jefferson's a solid Herald, Regina will be safe with him. Do you miss them?"

Emma rubs her thumb against the engraving of the tree. The cold pendant warms only slightly under her touch. "Of course. It's been... more than a year." She's thinking of Regina more than Baelfire, of course, and Lily knows it.

"You two always were inseparable." Lily chuckles, reaching up blindly until her hand lands on Emma's forearm. The blonde stills and feels the older woman tug her closer, pressing their fronts together and then shivering again. "Sorry. I'm trying to keep what little body heat I can trapped between us."

"It's fine," Emma replies, glad for the darkness as it hides the sudden blush across her cheeks. If only her blushing would warm her body too—but no, it's too damned cold, and what few thoughts she has of their physical closeness is quickly replaced by yearning thoughts of a crackling fireplace instead.

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but has there ever been anything between you two?"

"Between—? Regina and I? What do you mean?"

The innocence in her voice is endlessly endearing, and Lily feels a laugh bubble up from inside her chest. "Oh, nevermind. Have you taken an interest in anyone else, Emma? Romantically? Baelfire, perhaps?"

"Havens, no!" Emma snickers. "Bae kissed me and we promptly regretted it. It was like kissing a brother!"

"A kiss? That's all?"

"Well, yes." Emma sounds vaguely confused. "What else do you mean?"

"You are so innocent," Lily teases, carefully reaching up with a hand to bop her finger against Emma's nose. "You're eighteen now."

"Yes," Emma says, baffled, as she crinkles her nose against the teasing touch. She's not sure why Lily is bringing up her age. They'd celebrated her birthday just a couple months prior by taking a break at a village and treating themselves to good food and a dip in a hot spring with the little bit of money they'd had with them. Now that she thinks about it, Lily will be turning twenty three in a few weeks.

"Can I kiss you, Emma?" Lily's voice is light, whimsical enough for Emma to brush her off if she wishes to, but instead the blonde goes stiff with surprise.

"W-What? Why?"

"Why?" Lily laughs. "Why not? We're friends, and I like you, and I can think of no better way to help warm us up. Don't you like me too?"

"Well of—of course," Emma stutters, her cheeks flushing with surprised delight. Lily has teased her in the past but she never thought the older woman was actually _interested_.

"So is that a yes? May I kiss you?"

"Yes," Emma squeaks, her lips claimed a moment later by Lily's.

She's gentle at first, giving Emma a chance to pull away, but when the blonde melts against her with a happy sigh, she presses more firmly against her and swipes her tongue along Emma's lower lip in a bid for entry. Emma is tentative and awkward, her inexperience clear in the way she parts her mouth and waits to see what Lily does, unsure and trying to learn by example. Lily just curls her arms around the younger woman and molds their fronts together, sweeping her tongue into her mouth and humming happily when the blonde tentatively reciprocates. With a hand sliding up along Emma's spine, Lily winds her fingers into a luscious mane of blonde hair and gives it an experimental tug, coaxing a gasp out of the younger woman as they part.

"Lily?" Emma whispers into the dark, feeling the heat of the brunette's breath against her throat. Goosebumps rise up across her flesh where their newfound heat mingles with the cold air and she shivers further into the other woman's arms.

"Do you want to go further?" Lily questions, her lips ghosting across the blonde's jaw. Emma's eyes flutter shut and her breath stutters from her throat.

"F-Further?"

"As far as you're comfortable with."

A kiss is pressed to her throat, then another, then the caress of a tongue as Lily tastes her skin and nibbles with the tenderness of an old lover. A soft whine sounds out in the Waystation and it takes Emma a moment to realize she's the one making that sound. Lily's hands, warming up between them, gently tug at her tunic and Emma willingly complies, pulling at Lily's clothes in kind until they are both bare and pressed together, skin against warm skin beneath the many layers of furs.

Allowing herself to be pushed over, Emma relaxes onto her back and welcomes the weight of Lily atop her, curling her arms around the brunette's trim waist.

"Is this alright?" Lily questions softly, her breath warm on Emma's face.

"More than." Chest heaving with anticipation, Emma slides a hand up along Lily's side and over her shoulder until she can finally smooth her thumb along the brunette's cheek. "I've always been smitten with you, didn't you know that?"

"Mm, a little, perhaps," Lily teases. "But you were always focused on Regina, too."

"She's my best friend," Emma says, baffled and oblivious. Lily shakes her head slightly, smiling in amusement before leaning down to find Emma's lips with her own.

"Of course. And I will be your lover?"

"Is that what we are?"

"If you want me, sweetling," Lily murmurs against her mouth, nipping at her lower lip. "Just say the word."

"I want you."

They say no more, lips fusing together as hands slide along flesh and map out every contour, bodies heating up together beneath the furs in an inferno that makes them forget they were ever cold to begin with. Lily's hands are sure and confident, her mouth moreso as she tracks down Emma's body and brings her to her first taste of pleasure. The blonde is as innocent and naive as she'd guessed and she is gentle when she finally enters her with two fingers and soft murmurs of reassurement, allowing Emma to burrow herself in against her neck as they readjust and find a new rhythm. Emma is, as always, a quick learner, eager to reciprocate once given the chance, and they spend a few languid hours keeping each other warm and satisfied until they finally doze off in a tangle of limbs.

Their Companions waking up and thumping around in an attempt to stretch out stiff limbs is what coaxes them from their slumber, blinking owlishly in the dim, gray light. The two covered openings in the roof let in the barest amount of gray morning light through a layer of snow and Lily is the first to drag herself out from beneath the warm furs, groaning as she quickly pulls on her clothes and drapes a fur around herself for good measure.

"Alright, who's up first?"

:: _Allow me,_ :: Bug offers, turning and lifting each hind leg so that the Herald can carefully wrap him up with protective strips of hide. Emma remains curled within her little cocoon of warmth, peeking out at them and receiving an amused look from her Companion.

:: _Sleep well?_ :: he teases, to which she rolls her eyes fondly at him and does not deign to respond. Once he gets to work on the ice wall, Lily grabs some preserved jerky and hard bread from the rations bin and retreats back beneath the furs, cuddling up to Emma as they nibble their breakfast. Emma isn't too sure how to behave with her friend now that they're able to see each other in the pale light, but Lily just grins and kisses her soundly, and all her worries are forgotten.

They spend two more nights keeping each other warm and sated, and on the third day Drogo manages to bust through the final layer of ice and free them from their temporary prison. Gathering up their things, they head out immediately, glad to be moving and on the road again. Despite the bruises and minor cuts on their hind legs, Bug and Drogo are eager to stretch their legs for the first time in almost two weeks, and so they bolt off in a gallop for a good few hours while Emma and Lily simply cling on, happy to make up lost travel time.

The thick snowdrifts of the Northern Ridge quickly give way to the fresh green of spring as they leave the mountains behind and make their way towards the expansive docks and fishing villages of Lake Evendim. The good weather comes in time for Lily's birthday, in which they spend the day by a lakeside, lounging together on the grass and sharing the last of the sweets David had packed for Emma, Bug and Drogo prancing around in the shallow waters like colts. With their extended stop in the mountains they're a month behind schedule, and after a bit of asking around in the largest villages about any previous Heralds that have come through, Emma realizes they've long since missed catching Regina and Jefferson along the way.

"Just means they'll be waiting for us back home," Lily reminds her, leaning sideways off of Drogo's saddle to steal a kiss before winking and trotting off. Emma's heart gives a strange little flip at the thought of reuniting with her best friend, and she clutches at the tree of life pendant around her neck as Bug trots off after Drogo. They'll be back in Haven in just a few weeks. She's going to see Regina again after a year and a half.

:: _It will be good to be home, don't you agree?_ :: Bug asks, swinging his head around momentarily to peer at her with a large blue eye.

: _Indeed,_ : Emma agrees.

:: _Home is where the heart is, after all,_ :: he offers coyly, and if Emma gives him an odd look, he pretends not to notice and simply makes haste towards the capital.


	5. Part 4

**Part 4**

Spring brings with it the crispness of fresh air and blooming flowers, the saltiness of the coast and the dew of new grass. With the breeze fluttering her dark locks around her face, Regina sucks in a deep breath and slowly lets it out, her hands behind her back, her shoulders comfortably set back, her chin tilted up. The morning is sweet on her tongue and the soft sun warm but not too hot. She pushes another stray tendril of dark hair behind her ear to stop it from tickling her cheek, feeling the weight of her braid resting down along her back. It's thick and getting long—she needs a haircut.

"I think I will never tire of you looking so grown up in your Whites."

Snow's voice draws her out of her reverie. Turning sideways with a respectful nod and tilt of her upper body, Regina offers the Queen a small smile.

"Your Majesty."

"Are we watching for Emma again?"

Turning back towards the railing of the small balcony, Regina settles her gaze once more on the horizon, the city of Haven visible beyond the walls of the Collegium. She and Snow are certainly a sight, the former in her brand new Whites and the latter in a flowing white gown.

"I am, yes."

"Not much longer now," the Queen says softly, settling a hand on Regina's shoulder and smiling when the small gesture of comfort is accepted. Regina has always been stiff around her and David, never quite certain where she fits into the Royal Family that has somehow welcomed her with open arms, but these last couple of weeks has given them plenty of time to bond.

Without an assignment yet, Regina has spent most of her time helping Herald Kathryn with the young trainees in the Field or resting in Emma's suite. She'd snuck in originally, missing her best friend and figuring that no one would notice if she slept in the blonde's bed every so often, but Snow's daily visit into her daughter's room meant she found her out pretty quickly and promptly insisted that Regina stay there for the time being.

"She'd want you to," Snow had reasoned, and so that was that. They found themselves sitting in silent companionship on the chaise in Emma's suite more often than not, reading quietly or sometimes engaging each other in a game of chess. Snow would drag her into having breakfast or supper with them in the palace almost every day, until Regina just started showing up on her own with a shy smile and a polite nod.

"David thought we might sneak away for a leisurely ride this evening," Snow says after a few minutes of companionable silence, resting her elbows on the stone rail as Regina remains in her upright position. "Would you like to join us, sweetheart?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." She reaches out for her Companion and feels Mercy prod back with a happy agreement to a ride. After a year and a half on circuit, Mercy is starting to feel restless and in need of a good stretch of her legs. "How are things with Hardorn? Lady Hulda was looking quite tired when I saw her arrive yesterday."

"Well enough," Snow sighs. "Prince Killian is still getting used to governing now that his father has been so suddenly taken from the world, and Lady Hulda has taken on more responsibilities in assisting him with trades agreements to keep things running smoothly. We've all been keeping an eye on Karse but they have made no further moves thus far. David has sent correspondences to Rethwellan in hopes of a joint alliance in case Karse tries anything more."

"Any sign of Cora?" Regina asks, lips pursing.

"No. Nothing of Cora." Snow glances sideways at her, thoughtful, as Regina nods curtly in response and says no more. The young woman before her has been nothing but honest and true, rough around the edges perhaps but unyielding in her loyalties. There is a fierceness in the way she looks at Emma, gentle yet protective, much like the way David looks at her. Regina's origins aside, Snow knows the young woman would give her life for Emma—already has in a way, from the blood oath marking her hand—and can feel in her gut that she can trust her just as much as Emma does. And when it comes to Snow, to trust is to love. "Regina?"

The younger woman turns to her again, a brow lifted in question.

"I just wanted you to know," she gently takes Regina's hands in hers and smiles brightly when Regina gives her fingers a squeeze, "I'm glad Emma has you."

The startled surprise in Regina's widened eyes coaxes a soft laugh out of the Queen.

"And I know you try to keep your distance, but you've become something like a second daughter to David and I, and I just hope you'll feel comfortable enough one day to confide in us the way you do with Emma."

Blinking, Regina's hands twitch in a desire to pull away, but she holds still and ducks her head awkwardly, uncertain of what to say except a quiet, "Thank you, your Majesty." It feels almost as if Snow is trying to coax something out of her, and there is no way she is ready to voice aloud her possible Lifebond with Emma, nevertheless tell the Queen about it. Snow, for her part, is oblivious and just happy that Regina hasn't rejected her outright.

"Now, I believe breakfast is ready—"

:: _Snow, darling, your daughter has returned,_ :: Blanche interrupts her, excitement in her tone. Snow flails momentarily before throwing her arms around Regina in a quick hug that has Regina's eyes bulging.

"Oh! Emma is back! Emma's home!"

Regina gives a strangled little sound of surprise and joy before both women are leaving the palace in a rush, the guards watching them rush by in bemusement. Regina clutches at the swan pendant around her neck as she runs, feeling the familiar grooves of the etching, an etching her thumb pad has long since memorized. Her heart swells almost painfully in her chest, threatening to burst the closer she gets to Emma. Even the scarlet tattoo on her palm tingles, seeming to sense the nearing presence of her oathbound.

:: _They're just coming up to the main gate now,_ :: Mercy says, jumping the fence and meeting the women by the front courtyard. She's nearly dancing on the spot in excitement, hooves lifting high with each step and hitting the ground with an almost musical chime. Regina pauses next to her and sets a hand against the mare's flank, waiting with bated breath.

A stallion's head appears first, cresting the hill, followed by a mane of golden hair glinting in the sun.

"Emma," Regina breathes out, so soft it could have been a sigh. Emma's head snaps in her direction as if she'd heard her regardless, bright green eyes landing on smouldering pools of chocolate brown. She's sliding off Bug's saddle before the stallion has even stopped, using the momentum to propel herself forward in a sprint. Regina starts running too, throwing aside all propriety in favor of being as close to Emma as possible and _now_ , and the next thing she knows they're colliding together with a shout of joy, strong arms circling her waist and lifting her right off the ground.

"You're home," Regina whispers into blonde hair, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla washing over her and filling her soul. Her heart feels ten times larger in her chest and yet it does not burst, blood singing through her veins and spirit glowing with joy. All she can think is _yes_ , Jefferson was right, Emma must be her Lifebond because it feels so _right_ being in her arms, like reuniting with the other half of her soul, and she can't stop herself from projecting an overabundance of love even if she tried as tears prickle her eyes and her arms tighten around Emma's shoulders.

She's swung around, once, twice, then her feet touch the ground as Emma gently lowers her and pulls back just enough to meet her eyes, the biggest grin stretching across her lips.

"Ginny," Emma breathes out, chest heaving, eyes sparkling. Next to them, Mercy and Bug are dancing around each other and bumping noses with glee, but to Regina and Emma, nothing else exists but them at that very moment.

"Havens, Emma," Regina says with a startled laugh, her hands sliding down to rest on the blonde's firm biceps, feeling the curvature of muscular arms encircling her waist. Emma stands a good few inches taller than her now, her shoulders more broad, beaming at her with a strong jaw and an unfamiliar scar on her left brow. She looks older and wiser, but the youthful glint in her eyes promises that the scoundrel she'd grown up with is ever present. "Look at you; a swan still, but no longer little."

"Look at _me_? Look at _you_ ," Emma murmurs, shaking her head and leaning back a little further to assess Regina in her Heraldic uniform, not a spec of dirt on her pristine Whites. "Havens, you're a sight. Herald Regina."

She tests the title with a smile on her face and Regina just chuckles, eyes crinkling and cheeks flushing ever so gently.

"I've missed you," Regina sighs, melting happily into the blonde's secure embrace. Emma nearly glows with delight. The brunette's emotions are projecting so strongly that even if she weren't an Empath, she would have felt the love emanating from her best friend. She opens herself up to it and allows it to wash over her, warm and comforting, soothing her soul and setting her alight with—

Something that feels a lot like passion. Intense, fiery, almost—

"Regina—?"

"Emma, I—"

"Hey Emma," a third voice intrudes, Lily appearing next to them and abruptly popping the bubble they'd been in. Emma pulls back, arms slipping away from Regina and a small crease of confusion marring her forehead as Regina's smile turns to a scowl. "I'm going to untack and wash off Drogo. I can take care of Bug too, give you a chance to catch up with everyone?"

"That would be great, thank you." Emma beams, accepting a quick kiss from the older woman and entirely missing the look of devastation crashing down on Regina's features as she watches Lily trot off towards the stables with their Companions. Snow steps forward then, all patience and barely restrained excitement, and Emma eagerly swings her mother up into a hug.

"Oh, Emma, look at how you've grown!" Snow gushes, squealing softly as her daughter swings her around. Set back on her feet, she gently holds Emma's face between her hands and strokes a thumb over her cheekbone. There are a million things she wants to ask her daughter, but at the forefront of her mind is an amused but skeptical, "You and Lily?"

"Mother," Emma blushes and smiles in embarrassment even as something tight and uncomfortable stretches through her chest like a rubber band pulled taut, threatening to snap painfully at any moment. She lifts a hand and rubs her chest with a grimace, but in another moment she's nearly staggering against Snow as a tidal wave of hurt and anger slams into her from behind. She gapes, whirling around to find dark eyes boring into her, watery and fraught with betrayal. Not once has Regina ever looked at her like that, and immediately she is wracked by remorse, even though she has no idea what she's done.

"Gin—"

She's cut off as strong arms scoop her up from behind, instantly finding herself in the arms of Baelfire, David and the twins rushing to join the welcoming party. Ruby and Joaidane exit the Collegium a moment later, beaming at the sight of her, the former shouting a gleeful greeting and pulling her into a hug as soon as Nick and Ava release her. She's penned in on all sides, flustered and happy to see her friends and family again but concern tugging hard at her conscience, having never seen Regina look so upset before.

When she finally escapes Ruby's playful wrestle and looks up, however, Regina is gone.

* * *

It's hard to breathe, it's hard to _see_ , but Regina storms forward regardless of her blurry vision, swiping away the unending wetness in her eyes as she traverses familiar stone corridors into the basement of the Collegium. She's barely through the door before she flings a blast of fire against the far wall with a shriek of anger, sounding more like a wounded animal than a human. Mercy whispers an unending stream of comfort into her mind but it does nothing to soothe her, useless against the bitter betrayal raging within her like an inferno because _of course_ Emma would fall for Lily. For all the years that she'd dutifully remained by her side, loved her, defended her, _blood-bound herself to her_ —of course Emma would fall for the one who swooped in out of nowhere and flashed a pretty smile. Regina feels like a bloody fool.

The stone walls suffer the worst of her fury, blackened and sizzling as she attacks it, unrelenting. Flames lick at her fingers every time she sparks them to life in her hands, turning her skin pink and angry, but she continues to fling fire as if relishing the pain it brings her. The fire within feels like it just might consume her if she doesn't let it rage and so she does, spinning the flames around her body and lashing out at the wall with a sort of gleeful anger. The stone wall looks like it's actually starting to distort, like it's _melting_ , and she hesitates just long enough to realize that her fire is almost white in color.

" _Regina!_ " The shout of her name is said with angry disapproval and Regina spins around, startled, at the same time Mal storms in with David in tow. "David," the woman warns, gesturing at Regina, and the next thing the brunette is aware of is the feeling of being pressed down beneath a heavy blanket, weighed down so completely that her anger drains away and leaves her sluggish and exhausted. Her fire flickers and dies and she is left standing in the middle of a smouldering room with her hands hanging listless at her sides and her shoulders slumped. Her cheeks are painfully chapped, her tear-tracks having dried up instantly on her skin from the heat.

"What in the seven hells' name is wrong with you?" Mal snaps, fearlessly storming into the room and snatching up both of Regina's wrists, shaking her reddened hands in plain view. "Look at your hands! Look at this room! I taught you better than this!"

David remains by the door, already sweating from the heat stifling the room, his brows furrowed in concentration as he keeps Regina's rage buried safely away. He doesn't know what has driven her to this, and for all that he has grown to adore the young woman like another daughter, he is nervous.

"I'm sorry," Regina whispers, her voice sandpaper-dry and cracking. Her hands are red and angry from the heat and every press of Mal's fingers into her palms sends a sting of pain through her nerves. "I... I just..."

"Out with it," Mal demands, her gray eyes cold and steely. She's furious, of course, but it's the sheer disappointment in her gaze that hurts Regina the most. Desperate brown eyes flicker towards David before dropping to the ground in shame and Mal backs off just enough to exchange a brief and silent conversation with the man.

"Are you sure?" David asks, concerned.

"I have it handled, David. Thank you."

He nods, giving Regina one more long look before reluctantly striding off down the hall and out of sight. Regina's anger returns once he is gone, but it's muted now beneath the sadness and guilt that David had brought to the surface. Mal's nails bite into her wrists as she examines her face, making sure that Regina is in control of herself again before finally releasing her.

"Talk," the blonde orders, glancing around at the damaged training room with pursed lips. Regina feels fresh tears trickle down her cheeks and winces as they sting her chapped skin, a hiccupping gasp escaping her. To her surprise, Mal gently wipes her tears away with blessedly cool fingers and sympathy in her eyes.

"It's Emma."

* * *

Emma is promoted and given her Whites within days, delayed slightly only after Lily assured the Queen and the council that despite her and Emma's personal relationship, the blonde is truly capable and was successful in her internship. In those few short days, she'd seen neither hide nor hair of Regina despite her best attempts at tracking the other woman down.

:: _She does not wish to be found,_ :: Mercy had told her apologetically one day, when Emma had resorted to trying to bribe the Companion for information. :: _I am in no position to tell you why. You will simply have to wait for her to come to you._ ::

:: _Why can't we just tell them the truth?_ :: Bug questioned the mare once his Herald had slunk despondently away. Mercy had just leaned into his side with a sigh.

:: _We cannot intervene with Fate, Bug, you know that. It's not our place to reveal Lifebonds. They must find each other on their own._ ::

Emma, it seemed, was not going to be the first to figure it out.

She took great comfort in Lily and Baelfire's company to fill the hole that Regina's absence left, her initial sorrow turning to bitterness as time went on and still she did not know what she'd done. Regina had given her no explanation, simply abandoned her without a word, tossing her aside like garbage. Her parents assured her that Regina was just going through some personal problems, and Baelfire insisted that Regina would never abandon her like that, but the longer she went without seeing or hearing from the brunette, the more her anger and self doubt festered.

She and Lily's relationship took a mild turn for the worse, however, when the older brunette eventually grew frustrated by Emma's almost obsessive behavior over Regina.

"She's clearly going through something personal, just let her go and stop worrying over it," Lily sighed one day, tired of hearing the blonde whinging. "I can't spend even five minutes with you without hearing about Regina."

"She's my best friend," Emma defended, like always. "I may be mad at her but how can I not worry when she's made herself so scarce?"

"And I thought we had a good thing going," Lily argued. "Can't you just speak of something else when we're together? She's not the center of your life, Emma."

"She's my best friend," Emma said again, feebly. With how she'd been acting lately, though, sometimes Lily couldn't help but wonder if Emma was just lying to herself. No normal person became anxious and obsessive and raccoon-eyed from lack of sleep over losing a _friend_.

"Fine, go wandering around like you always do, pretending you're not looking for her. I'll go spend time with others instead while you sulk about," Lily grunted, hands thrown in the air. "When you're done obsessing over your 'best friend,' you know where to find me."

Emma made no effort to visit Lily's rooms again and though they still occasionally shared a lingering kiss or touch, Lily seemed to content herself with distractions elsewhere.

When not drowning in her own frustrations, she was bogged down by the many new responsibilities her parents bestowed upon her. Sitting in on every meeting, holding court, staying up to date on all things happening within the Collegium, and joining in on trade discussions with the envoys of other countries. Most were boring, but on the occasion that Hulda attended a meeting and Joaidane happened to be visiting, she could at least entertain herself with watching the homely woman bat her lashes and Joaidane remain oblivious to it all.

"You are not married, are you?" she had asked him one day, watching as his brows disappeared into his hairline.

"Havens, no. I like to travel far too often to settle down and have a family. I'm too old for that now, anyway. Why ever do you ask?"

"Lady Hulda has been making eyes at you, did you know that?"

He looked rightly mortified. "No."

"Yes."

"No, no," he'd insisted, shaking his head adamantly and scowling. "That woman—" and then he'd hesitated, pursing his lips before frowning and squinting his eyes at her. "You're trying to distract me. You still have not told me what's caused your foul mood lately—"

Emma had swore and scampered away, hands clamped over her ears as she pretended to have not heard his question at all.

* * *

"What have you done, child of mine?"

Lily winces, looking up to find her mother standing over her with her hands on her hips. Stretched out on the grass intending to read that afternoon away, she senses the severity in Mal's voice and quickly sets her book down, moving into an upright sitting position.

"What's wrong, mother?"

Steely gray eyes narrow into slits before Mal finally lowers herself to the grass in one graceful move, her legs neatly crossed, knees close to Lily's.

"Your dalliance with the princess. Explain."

At that, Lily flushes. "What does that—"

" _Lily Aveline—_ "

"Gods, mother! Alright. We grew close during her internship. She is old enough to make her own decisions."

"And does she know you're a free spirit? Does she know that you have no desire to ever promise yourself to one person? I know how you work, daughter. You're worse than I was at your age." Mal pins her with a challenging look. Lily has the good sense to duck her head.

"Surely she knows. I never told her we'd be exclusive—"

" _Li-ly A-ve-line!_ " Mal swats her daughter repeatedly atop the head with each syllable, the brunette yelping and using her arms to shield herself from her mother's wrath.

"Ow! Mother!"

"Control your libido and tell that poor girl the truth, child, or you may very well find yourself set on fire, and it will have nothing to do with me!"

Lily pouts at her from her fetal position. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Mal huffs, knowing better than to out Regina's business. "Just tell Emma the truth before you string her along any further. I mean it, Lily."

With the grace of a feral cat, Mal rises again, leaving her daughter looking frazzled.

"I expect you for tea tomorrow morning," the blonde tosses over her shoulder, paying no mind to her daughter's childish antics as Lily just sticks her tongue out at her.

* * *

"M-Marriage?" Snow does not often stutter, but today she does, her jaw hanging open and her eyes wide with surprise. David fares no better, so frozen that he doesn't even look like he's breathing.

"It makes a certain amount of sense," Dean Archibald says, pushing at his glasses and staring thoughtfully down at the papers. Mal scoffs from her place next to him.

"I highly doubt matters are critical enough that we need a political merger."

"But to have the Hardorn army along with the Valdemaran army _and_ the Heralds? It would stop Karse from even attempting anything else against either of our kingdoms," says Blue, her face pinched and lips pursed.

"It's simply an offer from his Highness," Hulda reminds them. "He does not wish to pressure you in any way, but the fact remains that our kingdoms would benefit from a marriage. Our forces combined would effectively force Karse into a corner and leave us all the stronger for it."

"Again, nice as that may sound, I don't think it necessary," Mal says again, dryly. "This is Emma's hand in marriage we're talking about."

"Believe me, I'm aware," says Snow, pinching the bridge of her nose and momentarily squeezing her eyes shut. David remains silent next to her, conflicted, while Blue sighs loudly, making her irritation blatant.

"Where _is_ the princess?"

* * *

"You do realize you're late for a meeting, don't you?" Lily's voice is an unwelcome intrusion, more so when the woman's head appears over the stall wall. Emma's head snaps up from where she's curled up on a bed of hay in Bug's stall, eyes momentarily wide with surprise before narrowing. Something tight and bitter festers within her chest and sits heavy in her gut at the sight of a woman who once set butterflies loose in her belly.

"Not now, Lily."

Sighing heavily, the brunette crosses her arms over the divider and rests her chin upon them. "Are you still mad at me?"

"I don't know. How would you react were you told that someone you liked was never going to be faithful to you?"

Lily grimaces. "I'm sorry, Emma, but that's just how I've always been. I've never hid it."

"I never saw it, either. It's not like you've mentioned any other people to me or kissed someone in front of me. How was I to know that you enjoy fooling around with everyone?"

"It was my own business," Lily defends. "What does it matter, anyway? You've been so distant lately, we may as well be strangers."

"I've been—"

"Worrying about Regina, I know. That's all you ever do. You may as well go be with her instead for all that you obsess over her."

"What?" Emma looks utterly confused.

"Never mind," Lily sighs. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I was going to talk to you about our situation before feelings got involved."

Emma's eyes slowly narrow, jaw visibly tightening.

"Too late for that," she mutters, turning away. Lily stiffens, her mouth falling open and gaping for a moment before regret crosses her expression.

"What? But Emma, it's only been a few weeks. You can't possibly—"

"Don't tell me how I should feel," The blonde snaps, her shoulders tense with rising anger. "You should have told me before we— before we—" Her voice cracks and the anger gives way to hurt, betrayal clouding her green eyes. "It was supposed to be special. My first time was supposed to _mean something._ "

Lily pales. "I'm sorry, Emma."

"Go away."

"But I—"

"She said _go away,_ " a husky voice intrudes smoothly. Lily's head whips around to the owner of the voice while Emma freezes in place, eyes widening into saucepans. "One would think you would know when you're not wanted."

Lily stares at the younger brunette, conflicted but also insulted, and she opens her mouth to snark back but is beat when Emma leaps to her feet and breathes out,

 _"Regina?"_

Regina's dark eyes meet watery green ones, something dark and hurt passing her features before she curls her lip and turns away, continuing down the stables towards Mercy's stall with two full buckets in hand. Emma all but leaps out of Bug's stall and darts after her, never noticing the way Lily reaches out to grab her and misses, her hand hovering in the air before falling to her side in defeat.

"I'm sorry," Lily sighs after Emma's retreating back, shoulders slumping.

"Regina, wait!" Emma catches up to the elusive brunette, snagging her by her elbow and effectively tugging the other woman to a stop. Her shock at finally seeing Regina after her disappearance a couple weeks ago has her temporarily forgetting her anger, throwing caution to the wind as she throws her arms around her in a hug. Regina goes stiff in her embrace, clutching the two buckets by her sides and gritting her teeth.

"Let go of me."

Emma immediately pulls back, expression stung. "What the hell, Regina?"

Ignoring the question, Regina turns and steps into Mercy's stall, hooking a bucket full of grain to the wall for the mare to eat from while setting the other bucket full of supplies down, picking out a curry comb to use.

"Where have you been?" Emma persists, standing at the entrance of the stall. Mercy gives her an apologetic look before hiding her face in the grain bucket.

"I've been busy," Regina says curtly, tending to her Companion.

"I haven't even _seen_ you in weeks. You're avoiding me."

"We're Heralds now, princess. We have responsibilities. Maybe you should go deal with yours."

Emma narrows her eyes at the title and the cold dismissal, glaring at the back of Regina's head while the brunette studiously ignores her.

"What is your problem?"

Regina stops, sighing softly before turning her head to spare her a glance. "There's no problem, Emma. I'm just busy and stressed, alright?"

Emma gravitates a little closer, expression softening. "With you, Regina, I always know when you're lying. Please just talk to me."

Regina's head shakes ever so softly, eyes once molten and full of emotion now guarded. She shields herself and Emma can almost physically feel the barriers going up, cutting her off from reading Regina's emotions even if she tried. It's the most blatant show of distrust and Emma chokes back a little cry even as Regina turns away from her again.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You need to go."

"Ginny, _please._ " She grabs her shoulder, spinning her around in an attempt to find the connection they used to have so strongly between them. Regina avoids her eyes, her jaw tense. A thin chain glints at her neck and Emma hooks a finger under it to pull up the engraved swan pendant, still warm from where it rested between Regina's breasts. "You still have it. You still care about me as I do you. Why are you doing this?"

Dark eyes flutter shut, squeezing together as if in pain.

"I will always protect you, Emma, but I can't be your friend anymore."

Emma's chest aches. "Why? What did I do? Please let me fix it. I'll do anything."

"You can't fix it. Not this time." Dark eyes open and meet her gaze, dull and resigned. "I don't want to be your friend anymore."

When Regina walks away, Emma doesn't follow, remaining rooted to the spot as tears flow unending down her cheeks.

* * *

"Emma? Did you hear me?"

Emma blinks, shaking her head slightly as she forces her eyes to refocus on her mother. Snow stares back at her in concern as David reaches over to gently clasp her hand. Around them, the rest of the council is respectfully quiet.

"Yes, I heard you."

"And?"

"And... I don't know what you want me to say, mother." Emma gives David's hand a pat before pulling away. "Aside from rumors, nothing has happened and Cora has been missing for almost two years. The Heralds have kept everything under control and even our Valdemaran army hasn't been needed. Why would I marry prince Killian for another army that we don't even need?"

"We cannot forget that a Karsite assassin killed King Brennan," David says, frowning. "Things may be at a standstill right now, but surely more trouble is to come from Karse."

"No one is pushing this merger right now," Snow assures her, brows knit together. "It's... simply an offer on the table from Hardorn."

"The fact of the matter is that merging with Hardorn would protect us from all future potential attacks," Blue finally reasons, her hands clasped together neatly on the tabletop. "For all we know, Karse may be planning a war to take over Hardorn while they are without a King. Valdemar might very well be their next target."

"And who knows how long the offer is available?" Dean Archibald adds thoughtfully. "Prince Killian's coronation is planned for the next year. When he becomes king, he will begin searching for a partner elsewhere."

"Rethwellan has three princesses of age and Iftel has another two," Mal says curtly. "Let him marry one of those girls instead. Valdemar's long line of Queens has never married into another Kingdom and we've been just fine thus far."

"And if Karse decides to attack us?" Blue points out. "What reason would Hardorn have to aid our kingdom if prince Killian has no connection to Emma?"

"Is this a decision that needs to be made now?" Emma demands, sitting forward in her seat and drawing all eyes to herself. "Is our situation so dire that we need to make a choice now?"

"Well, no," Blue admits, frowning.

"Then I have time, and I will decide if I am married or not." Emma stands, her fingertips resting on the table and her expression stern as she stares down the members of her mother's council. "If nothing else, I can negotiate with prince Killian and discuss an alternative alliance without marriage. Not everything is so black and white."

When no one says anything else, Snow clears her throat and rises gracefully from her seat at the head of the table, Emma and David on either side of her.

"Thank you, everyone. You're dismissed."

Wooden chairs drag against the hardwood as the council promptly leave the meeting room. When the door finally falls shut behind them, Snow gives her daughter a concerned look.

"Are you alright, sweetheart? You seem tense."

"Well I just learned that I may have to consider marrying a stranger to protect my kingdom, pardon me for my less than ideal mood."

Snow pins her with a look. "That is not what is burdening you so heavily and you and I both know it."

Emma just sighs. "It's nothing, mother. I've a headache, I'm going to rest."

She sweeps out of the room, the door yanking shut loudly behind her. When Snow turns to give her husband a worried look, she notices the frown on his face and the furrow in his brow, the face he makes when he is in deep thought.

"What is it, David?"

"I think she and Regina are at odds."

"She did disappear quite suddenly when Emma had first returned home, and she hasn't joined us for meals in a long while... Do you know something?"

He knows that she was angry and upset, and some part of him thinks that perhaps it was because of Emma's surprising new relationship with Lily, but he has the good sense not to meddle and instead just shakes his head slightly.

"Not really. I'm sure they'll sort themselves out; they are best friends, after all."

* * *

In the following months, Emma buries herself in her new role as Princess, shadowing her mother often and learning the ins and outs of Court. She sits in on every meeting and joins every debate, studying or spending time with her friends during her free moments. Lily is a tentative fixture in her life at first, the two women awkward and uncertain around each other until Emma decides she will not let a failed romance get in the way of a good friendship and promptly tells the brunette as such. As much as she'd enjoyed their physical intimacy from those few shorts weeks, she is happier to have her friend again.

Regina remains ever distant, spending most of her time with Kathryn in the Companion stables or keeping Mal company. Despite avoiding the royal palace like the plague, she still spends stolen moments conversing with Snow or David every so often, and the two are kind enough to never mention Emma or ask about their seemingly lost friendship.

Despite their Heralds' avoidance of each other, Bug and Mercy are often found together in Companions' Field, occasionally joined by Drogo or Wonder. Their closeness is obvious to all those around them and on the rare occasions that Emma and Regina cross paths while visiting their Companions, nothing more than silent glances and stiff nods are exchanged.

:: _This is torment,_ :: Bug says one day, sorrow in his eyes as Emma sulks off in one direction and Regina stiffly storms away in the other.

:: _They're both fools,_ :: Mercy agrees dully, shaking her head. :: _I try to make her see reason, but she threatens not to bring me any more sugar cubes whenever I mention Emma._ ::

:: _And Emma is too stubborn and prideful,_ :: Bug laments. :: _She does not understand why Regina has acted the way she has._ ::

:: _Whatever shall we do with our Chosen?_ :: Mercy sighs, though it's a rhetorical question. Bug flutters his lashes as if rolling his eyes.

:: _Idiots in love, our girls._ ::

* * *

"And you're absolutely certain?"

"I'm afraid so. My sources are never wrong." Joaidane grimaces, his knobbly fingers knit together tightly in his lap as he sits with the council. Despite being an old and dear friend of the royal family—having played something of a fatherly role to the late Queen Eva, Snow's mother—he has never been on the Queen's council, preferring to travel often and pop in for surprise visits. As he now sits next to the Queen at the meeting table, however, everyone's faces are drawn together with concern. He does not often insist on speaking to them all.

"How long do we have?" Snow finally asks, frowning at her old friend. He glances apologetically across the table at Emma's withdrawn features before pursing his lips.

"A matter of weeks. Perhaps less. I can't say for certain."

"We send our army," Mal says immediately, expression pinched as heads turn in her direction. "They have been idle in recent years—I'm sure they're eager for action. With a few of our Heralds leading the operation, we'll have Karse scurrying back across their borders before they've even hit our furthest villages."

"And it's not a diversion? What if it's a trap to distract us from another attack?" David asks.

"Karse does not deal in diversions. Their army is too loud, too prideful. They will try to take over every village they come across until their warpath reaches Haven." Joaidane finally pries his fingers apart and sets his hands on the table, palms down and fingers spread. "I would recommend immediate action, your Majesty, before they reach our border."

Snow and Mal exchange a somber look before the Queen finally inclines her head at the older blonde.

"Get Ruby, track down our best Heralds and have them prepped for departure immediately." Mal nods and immediately sweeps out of the room. "David, have our Fetchers send messages to the villages by the border. Any Heralds we have on circuit in the area should be contacted as well. Archibald, if you could assist with that?"

Both men nod and stand, striding quickly from the room. Blue rises from her seat and clears her throat.

"I have preparations to make as well, your Majesty, if I am no longer needed."

"No, thank you, Isabeau."

With a nod and a sniff, the head Healer makes her exit.

"I am sorry it's come to this," Joaidane says sadly, his shoulders sagging as he regards Snow and Emma with apology in his eyes. The Queen gives a small shake of her head.

"You've nothing to apologize for. Thank you for alerting us—hopefully our forces will reach the border before Karse has time to harm any of our people."

"My contacts have good standing with a great deal of mercenary groups across Valdemar. Say the word and I am more than willing to pay out of my own coffers to have them assist your forces. They are nowhere near as large or formidable as Hardorn's army, of course, but it may help regardless."

"Thank you, Joaidane." Snow dips her head at him, smiling wryly. The dismissal is clear and he hobbles from the room to leave the two women alone in privacy.

"Emma," Snow begins softly, but Emma does not allow her mother to continue.

"I know what you're going to say." The blonde sighs, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. They are both aware that Karse's army is known for being vicious, with a terrible proclivity for fighting to the death rather than retreating. They may not lose in a war if they go head to head with the other kingdom, but the losses will be great if they do not have allies. A few mercenary groups are not going to save their people from a slaughter. "I need to speak with prince Killian."

Snow looks at her with sad eyes, but she is proud, too, as Emma straightens her shoulders with resolve and meets her gaze with a determined stare.

"I'll send word."

* * *

Mercy looks forlorn as Regina finishes with the last of the buckles on her saddle. Their bags are packed and her weapons are newly sharpened. Ruby had provided her with a quiver full of arrows with hollow, powder-packed shafts. "Simply give them a spark and they'll explode," the older Herald had said with a wicked grin.

:: _Is this truly the best course of action?_ :: Mercy asks, her blue eyes sad. :: _This does not feel right to me._ ::

"Karse is attacking. Haven is at risk, which means _she_ is at risk. I defeat them at the border and they'll never even get close to her."

Mercy glances at her Herald and they both know that the Companion doesn't believe her, but she says no more and allows Regina to attach her final saddlebags. Bug is nowhere to be seen, and though Mercy does not relish the thought of leaving without seeing him, she does not want to risk calling for him and alerting Emma too.

"Let's go," Regina murmurs softly, climbing up into the saddle and readjusting the way her shortsword sits on her hip. With one hand double checking that her beloved bow is securely strapped behind her, she squeezes her legs and coaxes her Companion forward. They barely make it ten paces out of the stables before fate intervenes and has Emma and Bug crossing their path.

"Regina," Emma says, her blank stare quickly turning concerned when she takes in their travelling bags and weapons. Bug quickly hurries forward to nuzzle Mercy while Emma steps up next to the mare, arms crossed and expression pinched. "You're leaving?"

"I'm joining Ruby at the front lines," Regina says stiffly, avoiding the blonde's piercing gaze and gripping the horn of the saddle. "They've already headed out, I'm bringing up the rear with Jefferson and Mal."

Emma's eyes flicker from her to the main gate. Jefferson and Mal are just outside, seated on their Companions and speaking with Snow. It seems even her mother knew Regina was leaving for the battle. "You were just going to leave without saying goodbye?"

"I'm doing it to protect you," Regina snaps, something bitter and hurt churning at the back of her throat. It seems to be the only thing she feels nowadays, every time she sees Emma or Lily. Worse when she sees them _both_ , because they've apparently become close once more.

"You're already doing a poor job of that," Emma says bitterly, her heart aching as she turns away. The distance between them hurts, but she never thought Regina would abandon her. Not like this, not without a goodbye, not without a promise to return.

"What the hell does that mean?" Regina spits, but Emma just turns back to glare daggers at her, all fury and indignation despite the tears threatening to spill over.

"What do you care? You clearly don't give a damn about how I feel. Enjoy your battle on the front lines, Regina." She storms off before her tears can spill over. Regina watches her go, guilt twinging in her chest before she squashes it down with firm finality.

Emma made her choice. Regina refuses to sit around and be her _friend_ when they should have been so much more.

"Let's go," she tells Mercy, avoiding even Bug's gaze as the stallion looks accusingly at her before pressing his cheek to Mercy's one last time, lips tickling at her neck.

:: _Be careful out there,_ :: he says softly, aching to see her go.

:: _I will. Take care of your girl. I'll make sure this one gets back to her in one piece._ :: She bumps her nose to his neck and meets his eyes once more before trotting off towards the gates, anxious as she feels Regina's stiff posture atop her.

Snow's expression is one of displeasure when they finally join Jefferson and Mal beneath the massive archway of the Collegium gates.

"I wish you would not go," Snow says outright, lips pursed into a severe frown. Regina dips her head, accepting the Queen's hand and squeezing the slender fingers with her own.

"I made an oath to protect this kingdom and that is what I will do. We'll be careful out there."

Snow's eyes soften, the same shade of gentle green that Emma used to look at her with. "You made an oath to protect _Emma_. Why are you leaving?"

"I'm stopping Karse before they can get to Haven. I _am_ protecting her."

"Not like this, Regina," Snow says, and it's quiet and sad, soft enough that Jefferson and Mal do not hear her. "She loves you. I don't know what happened between you two but I see that it hurts her every day. It hurts you both."

Tears threaten to wet her eyes and Regina has to blink hard to will them away. "I'm leaving because I love her too much."

Snow seems to understand, then, her eyes widening slightly before she nods and presses her lips to the back of Regina's hand in a soft kiss.

"Be safe, sweetheart. Come back home to us."

Regina nods, and then she's gone, galloping away after Jefferson and Mal.

* * *

The journey to Hardorn is a long and quiet one. They'd left just a few days after their armies had marched for the Karse border, riding with Hulda in one of the royal carriages while their Companions trotted alongside the regular horses pulling the carriage. It's just Emma, David, and Hulda, along with a small contingent of Valdemaran guards, and so conversation is short-lived after days of polite chatter and everyone is anxious.

"How has prince Killian fared?" Emma inquires after a while, the silence starting to make her nervous. She's never even been out of Valdemar before, nevertheless met with another kingdom's ruler. Hulda smiles at the question, though she looks weary, having constantly been traveling between Valdemar and Hardorn in the last year to help smooth negotiations and to transition Killian into his new position.

"He has been forced to grow up very quickly after his father's assassination, so he is struggling, but I think he will make a fine King someday. It's been a... transition." Hulda nods to herself, sighing. "I believe a merger between our two kingdoms would be very beneficial for both sides. Karse seems to be targeting you right now, but they may very well target Hardorn again too. Prince Killian would take comfort in knowing that you would help protect his people just as he will help protect yours."

"His initiative to protect all our people is very good of him," David says amicably, noting the look of discomfort on his daughter's face. She is the one who asked for this meeting, and she insists that she will do what is required to safeguard their kingdom, but he knows that having to marry a stranger to protect her people will ruin her chance with her true love.

He's quite certain who her true love is and it isn't a prince.

Hulda discusses Killian a while longer and David engages her in conversation so that Emma can doze off, already curled up in the corner as she is with her eyes staring dazedly out the small window. Eventually her lashes flutter shut and she sleeps, dreaming of dark eyes and honey-colored skin, and of full lips that curve into the most beautiful of smiles, marred only by the small indent of a scar.

Her eyes are damp with yearning when she awakens, the warmth of her father's hand on her shoulder shaking her into consciousness.

"We've arrived in Hardorn," he says with an apologetic smile, watching fondly as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes with the heel of her hand. Her hair is flattened on one side from where she's been leaning her head against the window and she runs her fingers through it in an attempt to fluff it out.

"Do I look presentable?" Emma mumbles, her nervousness returning as she runs her hands down the front of her coat. Though she is a princess and a future Queen, she is still an active Herald on duty, which means dresses are out of the question. Instead Snow had presented her with an intricate tunic and sleek coat, both pristine white with silver trim and pale gold detailing, paired with white riding pants and silver riding boots. Her hair had been in a perfect braid, too, but that quickly fell loose after days of sleeping in all manner of odd positions in the carriage.

"You look every bit the royal Herald," David says fondly, pressing a kiss to her temple before hopping out of the carriage. He offers his arm and helps Emma and Hulda out, then they and their Companions follow as Hulda leads them towards the main doors just across from the courtyard they'd arrived in.

:: _Are you going to bow or curtsy, Prince Emma?_ :: Bug teases, his chin grazing Emma's shoulder. She reaches a hand back to swat at his chest.

: _Oh, hush, you. Bae and Lily said I looked very handsome._ :

:: _Indeed,_ :: he replies, his Mindvoice thick with laughter. Emma rolls her eyes but immediately straightens when a man steps out from the castle to greet Hulda. He is dashing, she supposes, almost pretty, with blue eyes and dark hair, his jaw neatly lined by stubble and his smile boyishly crooked. He's tall and slender in a princely garb not unlike Emma's suit, but in the dark, rich colors of Hardorn. When he has kissed Hulda's hand and exchanged a few quiet words, he looks up to greet them and his toothy smile is bright and refreshing.

"Welcome to Hardorn," he says, teeth white against sun-kissed skin. He is the first to bow at the waist, a sign of respect to his royal guests, and David and Emma quickly bow in kind.

"Your Majesty, thank you for hosting us," David says, straightening and moving forward to clasp forearms with the soon-to-be King.

"Please, I'm not a King yet, just call me Killian." His grip is firm and he clasps his other hand to David's shoulder. "Thank you both for coming to discuss my proposal, though I wish it were under more favourable circumstances."

Releasing him, Killian then turns to Emma, head dipping again as he takes her hand and presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles.

"It's an honor to meet you, Princess," he greets with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Emma smiles politely and nods her head.

"You as well, Prince Killian. We have much to discuss."

"Indeed we do." He straightens, waving at the many guards positioned at the front doors. "See to it that their carriage horses are taken care of, and that their esteemed Companions find their accommodations acceptable." To Emma and David, he says, "I wasn't sure how you tended to your Companions, but we cleared out our most extravagant stables and have stable hands to wait on them at all hours, I hope that is alright?"

"More than, thank you," David says. "They're not very picky."

Turning to Bug and Rolan, Killian gives a gallant little bow regardless, his smile roguish and charming. The two stallions dip their heads in amusement before being led off.

"Right this way," Killian says, politely offering his arm to Emma. She accepts, her father and Hulda walking next to her and their Valdemaran guards trailing behind.

* * *

"Bae?"

The call of his name has the man turning his head, blinking in momentary confusion. Nick and Ava are standing by the fence next to him where he'd been leaning heavily, staring out at Companions' Field in a sort of fierce concentration.

"What, no honorifics for me?" he jokes half-heartedly. Nick rolls his eyes.

" _Herald Baelfire_ sounds snotty. You'll always be just Bae to us." The twins grin at him, moving to sit on the middle beam of the fence. Bae refrains from doing the same; Granny has already cuffed him across the head multiple times for constantly getting every pair of his Whites dirty or torn. ( _"Who thought pure white uniforms was a good idea?"_ he'd once bemoaned to his friends. _"We stand out like a beacon on a battlefield. You may as well shoot me now!"_ )

"You look concerned. What's going on?" Ava asks, swinging her legs. Baelfire sighs and rests his chin on his fist.

"This Karse and Hardorn business. It doesn't seem right to me."

"How so?"

"Karse, for one. We've had years of steady peace among the kingdoms, and last I heard, their current Sunpriest is a good man. Why would he conspire against us?"

"Maybe there are others in Karse who are doing the conspiring," Nick shrugs. "Emma said Cora worked on her own, right? Maybe others are too."

"Maybe, but then where has Cora been these past few years? She killed Graham and has not been seen since then."

"In hiding?" Ava suggests. "Or perhaps she had something to do with the Hardorn King's assassination?"

"Perhaps," Baelfire agrees, frowning. "But now this— this war happening at the border. Why would Karse choose now to make a push into Valdemar? We were under the impression that Cora would have very few allies, if at all. Now we're being told they're sending an army?"

Nick grimaces. "Bae, surely the Queen and her council has discussed all this at length. Joaidane's sources have always been accurate, too. Maybe you're just overthinking things."

"Joaidane," Baelfire repeats, brightening. "I could ask him."

He takes off immediately, Nick and Ava scrambling to keep up. A quick check in with a few guards around the Collegium points them in the direction of the library, in which Joaidane sometimes enjoys spending his time, leafing through the immense collection of tomes or dozing in an armchair by the fire. This afternoon finds him in his usual armchair, his feet stretched out towards the fire as he squints to read the tiny scrawl of a book, lips moving in silence.

"Ah, children," he greets cheerfully when he hears them enter, straightening in his seat and smiling faintly. "Here for a story?"

"I actually wanted to speak with you," Baelfire says, dragging over a stool and sitting near him. Nick and Ava flop down onto the rug to soak up the warmth of the fireplace.

"Oh? What of?" Gently shutting his book, Joaidane sets it aside and gives Bae his undivided attention, gaze rapt and smile warm.

"It's about the war at the border. Your sources were the ones to warn you about it, right?"

"Indeed," Joaidane nods. "Were it just one message I might have waited and looked into it further, but three separate sources of mine reported sightings of Karse activity and word of their impending attack. I brought it to the Queen's attention immediately."

"Do you think it has anything to do with Cora?"

Joaidane's eyes narrow at that, lips pursing tightly and something like anger flickering through his eyes. "I don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised. You can never trust a snake like that." He shakes his head in contempt before softening and giving Baelfire an apologetic look. "It's a blessing you survived. Have your wounds given you any problems?"

"Not really. It's healed well." He shrugs. "It will scar, though."

Joaidane chuckles. "I hear women find scars very attractive."

Bae smiles at the joke but sobers quickly as his mind returns to the matters at hand. With Emma gone away on business—perhaps even to discuss a political marriage—he cannot stop himself from worrying and doubting.

"What do you know of this potential merger with Hardorn?"

"Oh, Bae, you know that is not for me to discuss," Joaidane says, apologetic. "Even I know very little about it. I'm not a part of the council, remember?"

"Surely you know something?" Baelfire insists, expression pleading. The older man grimaces, visibly relenting to Bae's puppy-dog eyes.

"All I know is that the merger could solidify Valdemar and Hardorn's power and the future prosperity of both kingdoms. Karse would be backed into a corner and have no choice but to surrender. It's the wise move, Baelfire, and we both know Emma will do the right thing for her kingdom."

"She would be marrying a stranger," Baelfire bemoans.

"Royalty do not always have the luxury of marrying for love," Joaidane recites softly. Baelfire's shoulders sag a little as he pushes a hand through his hair.

"This is all just so... convenient."

Nick and Ava are both looking at him, baffled. Even Joaidane does not seem to understand his train of thought, brows knit in confusion.

"Perhaps I need to stop worrying so much and clear my head," Baelfire says after a few long moments of companionable silence, smiling awkwardly and rubbing at the back of his neck. The others smile at the suggestion and nod their agreement, the twins waving their goodbyes and remaining prone by the fireplace as he stands and makes his exit.

The corridors are relatively empty at this hour, most trainees in free period and the Heralds catching up on marking. Something continues to niggle at the back of his head like a persistent itch at the base of his skull and he cannot shake the restless feeling that has overtaken him.

"Baelfire," a voice says, and he turns to see Lily trotting to catch up to him.

"Lily?" he greets in a questioning tone. They have never been particularly close, spending time together only because of having Emma as a mutual friend.

"You've heard, haven't you? About Emma's business in Hardorn?" Lily frowns, looking worried. He wonders if she is bothered by the fact that Emma may very well return engaged.

"Of course I have. I don't like any of it."

"Me neither. And my mother left for the front lines only days before Emma left... Something feels wrong to me."

Baelfire stills, narrowing his eyes at Lily briefly before nodding his head. "That's what I said. It all seems too convenient."

"Are you suggesting that Hardorn took advantage of the situation?"

"Well I certainly don't believe that Karse would break the peace treaty. Cora could be behind it all—King Brennan's death, the attack at the border. She may not have many allies but surely she's clever enough to pull together the small army that Joaidane's sources had spied."

"But for what purpose?"

"That... I'm not sure. I don't see what she could have to gain by attacking both Valdemar and Hardorn without her kingdom's support. I don't understand why Karse's Sunpriest would let her do this, either. Surely he would stop her from tarnishing Karse's reputation further?"

"Unless he isn't aware that this is happening."

"How can he be unaware of a small army moving within his kingdom to attack Valdemar?"

Baelfire purses his lips. "Perhaps because there isn't an army at all."

"You're saying Joaidane's sources were wrong?"

"I'm saying that people can be paid off. Perhaps Cora bribed them into reporting false information. If more than one of them were to lie about an army at the border, Joaidane would immediately think it were true, wouldn't he?"

"That's true." Lily huffs. "So Cora could very well have spread lies and bluffed about an attack at the Karse border, which makes it a diversion of some sort."

"But from what?" Bae asks, to which Lily can only shrug, clueless. They have moved off into an alcove at this point, leaning against the stone walls opposite each other as they cross their arms and stare at the floor in hard contemplation.

"Back to Hardorn for a moment," Lily says, cocking her head. "King Brennan dies, Prince Killian is forced to ascend the throne, and he offers a political marriage to Emma to unite the kingdoms against Karse, and-or Cora. It makes sense in theory, but—"

"Something feels off," Baelfire finishes. "I just can't figure out why."

"And I don't like Emma being out of the Collegium," Lily says after a moment. "Until we figure out what in Haven's name is going on, she should be somewhere safe. Protected."

"And what better protection than her Oathbound protector?" Baelfire says, a slow grin lighting up his features. Lily grins too, nodding her approval. Whatever is going on between the wayward girls, she's still just as certain as Baelfire is that Regina will _always_ protect Emma.

: _Pan?_ : Bae prods. His Companion prods him right back.

:: _Yes, Chosen?_ ::

: _Send out a signal to every Companion you can reach. I need to find Regina's exact location on her way to the Karse border._ :

:: _As you wish, but whatever for?_ ::

Baelfire digs out a blank scroll, a quill, and some ink from his messenger bag and immediately starts scratching out a letter against the wall as Lily peers over his shoulder.

: _I've a message to send._ :

* * *

The Hardorn castle is warm and inviting, with deep, rich colors and no lack of rugs or tapestries. They're led through a series of guarded corridors towards a private wing and shown into what looks like an entertaining room, with lush couches set around a glass table with all manner of liquors neatly set up and a roaring fireplace on either end of the room to keep them warm. Killian is quick to offer them a drink, pouring out a glass of rum for himself and David while sending off a servant for tea when Emma politely requests something without alcohol.

"I hope your journey here was pleasant?" Killian asks once they're all seated, him on one couch, Emma and David on the couch across from him, and Hulda in an armchair just off to the side. The Valdemaran soldiers that had accompanied them remain just outside the room, on alert and standing across from the Hardorn castle guards.

"It was fine, thank you," says David.

"And Valdemar? How have things been? Your letter said that Karse has moved against you just days ago."

"They're planning an attack at the border, yes. We sent a portion of our army there to stop them before they can move into our kingdom."

"I'm very sorry to hear," Killian says, lifting his glass before drinking. "They've certainly been bold in moving against both our kingdoms. I don't understand what they think they can gain by killing my father and attacking your border."

"Our greatest condolences for your father's untimely passing."

Killian waves him off. "It's been almost two years, he would not wish for us to linger on his death."

"Have you managed alright in taking his place? If there is anything Valdemar can do to assist—"

"I appreciate the offer," Killian smiles. "Hulda has been a great help to me in these years leading up to my coronation. Now, as for our kingdoms aiding each other against Karse's machinations..."

"That is what we are here to discuss," David agrees, glancing sideways at his daughter. Emma has been silent up until this point, brows furrowed in contemplation and her lips tightly pursed. She looks up when she feels their attention on her, flushing lightly and brushing blonde curls behind her ear. Killian watches her with rapt attention and David has to remind himself not to bristle protectively—Emma has grown into a strong woman and she is fully capable of making her own decisions, whether or not he likes them.

"I was hoping, your Majesty, that—"

"Please, just call me Killian." He flashes that roguish smile of his again.

"Killian. I was hoping that you would consider an alliance with Valdemar."

"Ah, I thought I had offered—?"

"A marriage, yes." Emma smiles tightly. "And I am honored that you would offer such a merger, but you must understand, the royal family of Valdemar has always married for love, not politics."

"Of course," he agrees readily with a nod. "What is marriage without love? I assure you, milady, that my interest in you is true, and we would spend much time together to foster such affections in the event that we marry in the future."

"That is good and well, Killian, and please don't take this the wrong way, but I do not wish to marry any time soon."

"As I've said before, there is no rush," he says kindly. "Should you accept my proposal, my army would be at your beck and call for as long that we are engaged, too."

Emma glances at her father a little helplessly. David grimaces.

"Is a marriage truly the only option?" he tries, hoping perhaps that a male opinion might help sway Killian's one-track mind. "Valdemar would be more than happy to expand upon our alliance. We could open new trade routes and discuss other such matters to keep both our kingdoms prosperous."

"Perhaps, but you must understand I am looking out for the future of my kingdom as well. Hardorn will need an heir should anything happen to me."

Emma pales slightly at the thought. David looks just a tad green.

"Of course, Killian, but surely you could find a befitting wife elsewhere? Imagine, a marriage to one of the lovely princesses of Rethwellan or Iftel, as well as a solid alliance with Valdemar."

"Aye," Killian agrees, rubbing at the dark stubble of his chin, "tis an option if Emma is so against marriage, milord. But I _do_ find myself enchanted by you, Princess Emma. Might I ask that you two remain here a while longer as my guests and give me a chance to prove myself?"

"Of course," Emma agrees readily, pushing her own discomfort aside to smile genially at the young soon-to-be King. She does not relish the thought of getting married to anyone anytime soon, but Killian is being very generous and she knows better than to reject his offer so soon. "I would very much like to get to know you, Killian."

They move away from all topics of state for a while, relieved to discuss lighter matters and to engage in a few games of chess. Killian is the perfect host, making sure all their comforts are met as they sit down to an intimate dinner of richly flavoured foods—"the best mutton you'll ever have in all the kingdoms," Killian boasts—and then showing them to a pair of lavish guest rooms opposite each other.

"Should you require anything at all, you need simply call for a servant," Killian says once they have all decided to call it a night, standing with them outside their doors and motioning to the two servants standing at attention by the wall. "I hope you find your rooms comfortable; my home is your home."

"Much obliged," David says, clasping forearms with the younger man.

"Yes, thank you," Emma adds. Killian kisses her hand once more and bids them a cheerful goodnight before strolling off down the corridor, further into the private wing of the castle towards what they assume is the King's quarters.

"Goodnight, father," Emma sighs, indulging in his embrace for a moment as his palm cradles the back of her head.

"I know you will do what is right," David murmurs softly into her hair, mindful of the servants standing nearby. "But I want you to follow your heart as well. You deserve to be with someone you love."

When he releases her, his hand moves from her shoulder to gently tug at the chain around her neck, jostling Regina's tree of life pendant against her chest. She gives him an odd, questioning look.

"What are you—"

"Listen to your heart, Emma. Don't let true love slip between your fingers."

With one more significant look, he disappears into his room. Emma sighs and does the same, immediately moving towards the window in her room when she realizes there is a cushioned chaise there, deep red and yet bathed in pale blue moonlight. Outside, she has a choice view of the castle grounds below, a wide expanse of lush grass and what looks to be a stretch of paddock before reaching the thick forest line. Unlike the Collegium, this place is not surrounded by a thick wall, feeling far more open and free but also less protected.

Curling up on the chaise and breathing in deeply of the cool air, she pulls up her pendant and rubs her thumb against the engraving. Was her father hinting that she might love Regina? But that's a silly thought; Regina is—was—her best friend. That is very different from being _in_ love with someone.

 _"What should it feel like?"_ she'd once asked Baelfire.

 _"Like you are attracted to them, I suppose. You want to be near them often, to receive their attention and affections."_

Emma stares up at the pale moon, her chest aching again at the thought of how she'd left things with Regina. Her heart has not stopped aching all this time, not really. She'd done a good job of ignoring it, of pushing it aside until it was just a dull throb in the back of her mind, but sitting alone with her thoughts brings it all to the forefront again. Sorrow and loneliness has been her constant companion ever since their fallout, a distinctive hole left in her heart where Regina used to reside. It used to be so... natural. Like breathing. She thought having Regina as her best friend was just how things were supposed to be.

 _I don't want to be your friend anymore._

It hurt. Oh, did it hurt. But her father's words bring her a smidgen of doubt and now she cannot help but to hear the words—Regina's resigned, broken words—and wonder if the older woman had meant something entirely different than simply not wanting to be acquainted.

: _Bug?_ :

:: _Yes, dearheart?_ ::

: _Did Regina love me?_ :

There is a long, pregnant pause in which she feels some amount of sadness radiate from her Companion.

:: _Very much so,_ :: he says softly after some time.

: _I meant as more than a best friend, Bug._ : She holds her breath, waiting.

:: _I know what you meant._ ::

She closes her eyes, curling her arms atop her knees and pressing her face into them. She thinks of Regina, of the wall of pain and anger that had slammed into her when they others had first learned of her relationship with Lily, of the way Regina had rebuked her affections and looked at her like she'd been betrayed. She remembers the way Regina turned away from her, shoulders slumped, resigned, defeat in her voice.

She remembers the flash of hurt in Regina's eyes when she'd selfishly accused her of being a poor friend, when she should have known that Regina wanted more.

: _I hurt her,_ : Emma almost whispers in her mind, despaired. Bug soothes her over with a wave of love and reassurance.

:: _You can make it right again, Chosen. She still loves you. She will always love you._ ::

Swiping at her eyes, Emma lifts her head and stares forlornly out the window.

: _You truly think so?_ :

:: _I know so._ ::

She takes in another deep breath, tiredness slowly pulling at her, weighing her down. The bed calls her name, but she cannot sleep when something else worries at her mind.

: _Could I be in love with Regina?_ :

Bug's response is slow, almost coy. :: _Could you be?_ ::

Emma sighs, eyes closing in exasperation. : _I don't know, Bug. That's why I'm asking you._ :

:: _You are a child no longer, heart of my heart,_ :: he tells her fondly. :: _It's time you figured it out yourself, don't you think?_ ::

She stands, shaking her head a little as she moves towards the bed and pulls back the thick, luxurious furs. : _You are insufferable._ :

:: _You love me,_ :: he teases. Shucking her topmost clothing until she is in only her underclothes, Emma crawls in beneath the furs and settles down with a heavy sigh.

"That I do," she murmurs.

* * *

They spend the day riding with Killian after a quiet breakfast, Hulda declining an invitation after grimacing at the thought of climbing onto a horse. "At my age? Nonsense," she'd scoffed, shaking her head at them like they were a bunch of youngsters. Afterwards, when David chooses to relax and peruse new reading materials in the library, Killian offers Emma a tour of the gardens.

"My mother's pride and joy," he says as they move down the pebbled path, thick rose bushes on either side, leading them towards an almost wild gazebo teeming with flowers and vines of all kinds. It's a beautiful sight, all manner of colors and shapes growing together, but it's clearly not been tended to in many years. Emma has to duck one such vine, hanging low from the gazebo overhang where it had become too heavy to sit properly.

"I admit, I haven't much of a green thumb," Killian says, smiling apologetically. "I like it out here, it reminds me of her, but I don't know the first thing about tending to it. My father discouraged wasting my time on such endeavors."

"I'm sorry to hear." Emma gently touches a delicate pink flower blooming from a vine around one of the beams, feeling the velvet softness of it against her fingertip, coming away with a light dusting of pollen. "Did your parents marry for love?"

She realizes the rudeness of her question as soon as it's out and immediately winces, shooting him an apologetic look. Killian just chuckles. "No, love. It was a political marriage, like most royals have. But they grew to adore each other from what I remember. My mother passed away from illness when I was but a boy and my father never loved another again."

"I'm sorry," Emma murmurs again, dismayed. Killian leans against the railing of the gazebo and she does the same, soaking in the scent of flowers and the peaceful flutter and chirps of small birds around the property.

"I would be a good husband," he says kindly, giving her that lopsided smile of his, boyish and charming. "I am not so much older than you, and from our conversations, we have many interests in common. Our union would ensure the safety of both our kingdoms, and you would be free to move between our kingdoms as you please. We could even visit your summer palace, perhaps on a honeymoon? I hear it is lovely during the spring."

Emma blinks, a little overwhelmed as he speaks. "Killian, I don't know—"

"Like I said, I would not rush you," he says, holding up a hand. "I would wait until you are ready. We'd have all the time in the world to fall in love, Emma, if you agreed to marry me."

She looks at him, conflicted, seeing the bright excitement on his face. She reinforces her own barriers to make sure she does not read his emotions, not wanting to feel even worse if she finds that he is already falling for her.

"There is just a lot for me to think about," she says, and he nods quickly in understanding. "Love is a... complicated thing. How does one know when they are in love?"

"Oh, well." He taps at his chin, contemplative. "You would wish to always be with your beloved, to be the one who makes them smile and laugh."

Emma thinks of dark, glittering eyes and the slow, heartfelt way Regina's lips used to stretch into a secret smile just for her. She thinks of the low, husky laugh that only ever came out when they were alone together.

"You would be faithful and take care of each other," Killian continues with a smile. "And you would want to always be in each other's arms every night, belonging to each other in every way."

He chuckles, low and suggestive with a glint in his blue eyes, but it's dark eyes that she thinks of, the warmth of honey-colored skin, the curve of a soft body holding her on those rare nights that she'd curled up in bed, crying and needing comfort.

"Oh," is all she thinks to say.

"Oh?" And at that, Killian's expression turns to concern. "Do you feel such a thing for someone already?"

"I..." She looks up at him, at the dismay in his gaze and the way his lips purse down. "I don't know. It's... complicated. I'm sorry."

"You need not apologize," he says with a shake of his head. After a moment, he brightens and quickly offers his arm. "I've an idea. Come with me."

"Where to?" she asks even as she loops her arm through his, allowing him to cheerfully lead her back into the castle through a back entrance. They make their way up a winding stairwell in a tower she hasn't been in yet and to the very top, arriving at the landing to find a blue painted door, the frame delicately painted with silver branches. The colors remind her of Valdemar.

"What's this?" she asks. He has yet to answer, pushing the door open and gesturing for her to look within. Curiosity getting the better of her, Emma steps inside and blinks, taking a long moment to understand what it is she's looking at.

The room is circular, with windows on all sides that show they're at the top of the tallest castle tower, surrounded by the lush forests of Hardorn. A thick blue rug covers most of the stone flooring, blue and silver tapestries depicting beautiful white horses on display between every window opening. There's a bed, dresser, table, and a few other choice pieces of furniture, all intricately carved from beautiful dark wood, and from the ceiling hangs many delicate glass horses, all strung up by thin, almost invisible strings. The late afternoon sun pouring in from the windows, paired with the warm breeze, make the glass horses sway and glitter brightly above her head.

"What... what is this?" Her voice is faint, confused and uncertain of why this room feels so... Valdemaran. Like it was made for a Valdemaran child and not a citizen of Hardorn.

"This room is for you," Killian says, grinning, stepping into the room behind her and closing the door. "Do you like it?"

"It's..." She turns to face him, brow still furrowed. "You put this room together for me?"

"No, my father did. He thought it would suit you."

Emma shakes her head slowly. "I don't understand. Why did your father make this room for me all those years ago?"

"He thought you would be here sooner." Killian shrugs. "But you are here now, and that's what matters."

He steps forward, hands reaching for hers, and she instinctively steps back, unsettled and nervous now. "Kilian, no. I don't understand. What's going on? Your father expected to have me here years ago?"

"Relax, love," he says, catching hold of her hands this time and pulling her into a loose embrace that she immediately stiffens in. "All that's in the past. Look around—this, and my entire kingdom, it's yours. Hardorn and Valdemar will be _ours_. We'll spend our honeymoon at the summer palace. That would make you feel better, wouldn't it?"

It's the second time he's mentioned it. Emma stands frozen like a statue in his arms. "The summer palace... It's private. Very few people know about it. We never told you about..."

Her breath catches in her lungs, realization and fear striking her right down to the bone. Killian's arms tighten around her waist and he kisses her before she can turn away, his mouth firm and his stubble rough against her chin. She tries to twist away and he moves his kisses to her jaw and neck instead, stubble scratching at her pale skin.

"Stop!" she gasps, pushing at his chest when he nips at her throat. He is stronger than she expected and a cry of panic escapes her as she tries to wrench herself free. She manages to get halfway out of his arms and stumbles further into the room away from him but he follows, promptly tackling her down onto the bed and latching onto her neck again, fingers fumbling at the buttons of her coat.

"Relax, love, just relax," he rumbles against her throat, chest heaving with anticipation, "I can help you forget about whoever it is you think you love. You and I, we're meant to be together. Let me love you, Emma."

She swings her leg up when he moves onto his knees for leverage, kicking him between the legs and then shoving him aside when he jerks back with a cry of pain. Rolling off the other side of the bed, she runs for the door, adrenaline making her jittery.

: _Bug, help me!_ : she nearly screams for him, and then she screams out loud when a body collides into her from behind and sends her slamming face-first into the door. Pain bursts behind her eyelids when her forehead slams into wood, then Killian shoves her and she falls, trying to twist away from him. Her head hits something hard and sharp on the way down. When she hits the floor, she's still and unconscious.

"Damned," Killian says, groaning as he drops to his knees to check on her. Her pulse is strong, but blood is already seeping through her blonde hair where she'd hit the edge of the desk on the way down and the bridge of her nose is purpling from the impact with the door. "Why did you have to fight me? This is all for your own good."

He sighs, gently brushing the hair back from her forehead before carefully gathering her up in his arms. It's a long trip back down the tower, and he has to stop a few times to catch his breath since she is essentially dead weight, but eventually he makes it to the bottom and carries her towards the main entrance. His guards say nothing, merely offer to help carry her to relieve him of his burden, but he refuses them all. No one is going to touch his fiancée but him.

"Killian! There you are," Hulda says, stepping in from the main doors—which are shattered, giant splinters of wood scattered all across the main entrance as if a creature had smashed through it. Dead soldiers litter the ground, a few Hardorn ones and all of the Valdemar ones. Many more of his Hardorn soldiers march by, already dragging away the bodies to clear the path.

"What the hell happened here?" he growls. "Where's David?"

"Gone," Hulda snarls, her lips curling into an ugly sneer. "Your foolishness alerted their Companions. David and his men clashed with ours and the Companions broke down the damned door to get in here. When all his men fell, the Companions grabbed him and fled."

"And you couldn't stop him?" Killian's voice is thick with sarcasm. "You had two tasks. Frame Karse, and kill anyone who could reveal our plan. Are you not a powerful mage? What do I pay you for, Cora?"

Hulda bares her teeth, her homely disguise melting away until she is all sharp hawk-like features, dark hair, and cold, piercing eyes. Her gaze falls on the unconscious young woman in his arms and she sneers again. "I don't know what you're complaining about. You have your princess, and now you can take over both kingdoms without playing the simpering role of dutiful husband."

"She would have been so much more lovely to wed if she were not angry with me," he deadpans.

"Get over it." Cora's eyes narrow as Emma stirs, moaning in pain as she twitches in Killian's arms. "She's waking. We need to lock her away somewhere for now. I'll cast a spell to block her off from the Mind Magic of those blasted Companions."

She swirls her hands and all three of them disappear in a plume of black smoke, reappearing down in the dungeon. Killian sputters at his empty arms and finds Emma sprawled out within the prison cell.

"The dungeon? Really?" he snarls, irate. Cora rolls her eyes at him. No doubt he would have tucked her into bed in that disgustingly chipper Valdemaran bedroom if it had been up to him.

"It's easier to keep her locked away here from their prying eyes," she lies, taking great delight in waving her hands across the cell bars and encasing her in a spell. "There. Now you have time to plan your little wedding and takeover without them being able to contact her."

Emma groans again, her head lifting from the stone floors a little as her dazed eyes try to focus on her surroundings. A single torch on the wall is lit behind Killian and Cora and she stares at them for a long moment before her eyes finally focus and her lips pull back into a snarl.

"What have you done?" she demands, struggling to sit up and glare at Killian at the same time. "How _dare_ you—"

"Now is that any way to talk to your future husband?" Cora says disapprovingly, smiling a serpentine smile. Emma stills, staring hard at her until the shape of her eyes looks almost... familiar.

"Cora," she realizes in a whisper, eyes widening. The woman has sharper edges, colder eyes, and lips that purse in permanent disapproval, but she can still see the faint similarities to Regina. Her brain is sluggish from her injury, but already the cogs in her mind are working.

"Tell me, how is my darling daughter?" Cora croons, a strange kind of softness taking over her features. It looks wrong, warped. "She's been such a bad girl, running away from home, I could barely even look at her whenever I visited you two. But no matter, I will correct her once I have her back. She will learn to behave."

Emma has no idea what the woman is talking about, doesn't even want to understand what is going on in the psycho's head, but her lips pull back as anger lances through her, fierce and sharp, and she snarls, "You stay the hell away from Regina!"

Cora just laughs. "Oh, my dear girl, you're in no position to be making demands. Regina will be mine, just as you will be Killian's. Both of you, back where you belong."

"Where I belong— what insanity are you spouting?"

"Rumplestiltskin said you would be mine," Killian murmurs softly, as if trying to calm her with his tone. "We were supposed to be together since birth. The bastard bandits were supposed to have brought you to me. The day your parents left the summer palace to return to Haven, it was all planned out, it was supposed to be perfect."

"Who's Rumplestiltskin?" Emma asks, voice tight. "How could he know all that? It was a secret!"

Killian continues as if he hasn't even heard her.

"I'm so sorry that they left you in the forest. You should have grown up here, loved and pampered, my beautiful princess."

He reaches through the bars, trying to touch her, and Emma shrinks back with a look of utter disgust. Closing his fingers into a fist, he pulls back and grimaces.

"Well, what's done is done. This will all be over soon, love, don't you worry."

"I'm _not_ going to marry you," she hisses. "Valdemar will never be yours."

"Oh, but it will," Cora says, and the glint in her eyes is so unhinged that for a moment, Emma is terrified. "You are so loved. Your parents, the kingdom, even my daughter. They all love you, and so they're going to give us what we want to keep you safe."

"No," Emma whispers, breathless. Killian eyes her for a moment, grins boyishly, and leaves. With every click of his boots fading away, her heart only thuds louder, because Cora is remaining right where she is with a malicious smile on her face. Emma wonders if the woman would dare to kill her while Killian is absent.

"Oh, don't look so scared," Cora says with a click of her tongue. "I need you alive, remember?"

"Then why are you still here?"

Cora smiles. "Well, he didn't say I couldn't take out some of my frustrations on you."

The next thing Emma knows, an invisible force has slammed her into the wall and pinned her there. The cell door swings open and Cora steps in, rubbing her hands together almost gleefully as her eyes track the length of Emma's body.

"You are so fond of my daughter, why don't I give you some matching scars, hm?"

Regina was right—it feels like ice slicing through her like butter. There's a high pitched scream echoing through the dungeon and it takes Emma a moment to realize it's _her_. Her throat nearly cracks from the screams being torn from her and she thrashes wildly against the wall as Cora meticulously drags her magic across Emma's flesh like one playing with their food, cutting here and there, delighting in the way blood soaks right through her once pure-white uniform.

"Does it hurt?" Cora purrs, her face uncomfortably close, eyes alight with sick delight. "Regina was so much better at taking the pain."

"I'll kill you," Emma chokes out in a gasping voice, eyes blurring with tears even as she grits her teeth and holds back a cry of pain. The very thought of a young Regina going through this very same torture makes her blood boil with fury. "You monster—"

"I wonder if her pain tolerance has gotten worse since then?" Cora hums, slicing open Emma's thigh and causing the younger woman to jerk forward with a strangled cry. "No matter. I'll find out soon enough."

Emma has never wanted to inflict violence so fiercely before, never felt such a blinding surge of rage, to inflict her wrath upon anyone who might threaten her loved ones. Her hands clench so tightly that her knuckles go white, wishing she could get her hands around Cora's neck, imagining what it might feel like to squeeze her fingers into that narrow throat and crush the woman's windpipe, watch the life die in those cold, heartless eyes.

"Don't you _dare—_ "

Cora doesn't give her the chance to finish the threat. The pain is nearly unbearable. Cora does not cut deep enough to kill her, and the lingering magic burns her flesh so that it actually cauterizes the wounds, keeping her from bleeding out.

Emma isn't sure how long Cora slowly cuts into her, but she wishes, _begs_ , for unconsciousness to take her. And it does, she realizes, when what feels like hours later, she opens crusted eyes and finds herself alone in the cell, slumped against the wall, her entire body buzzing with agony and tears streaming down her face. Even the slightest attempt to lift her head does nothing but coax a pitiful whine from her ragged throat. Her body is broken, and she is in no state to escape or fight back.

She'd come here to negotiate for the safety of her kingdom and now—now her kingdom is going to be ransomed for her life. How could she have let it come to this?

: _Bug?_ : she tries, reaching out to feel for his presence. She can't feel him, isn't sure if she's cut off or if he's... The thought has her stomach turning. No, he can't be dead. Surely she would have felt it if he were.

: _Can anyone hear me? Please!_ :

Still, nothing. She has never felt so cut off, so alone, so helpless. Perhaps Cora has done something to isolate her. She doesn't know what's happened outside, if her father or their Companions are alright. She doesn't even know if rescue is coming... but she knows that it can't. They cannot hand over Valdemar in exchange for her life. She won't let them.

 _Every Queen and her Own has one._

It hurts, by the gods it hurts, but she slowly twists her arm behind herself and under the shredded remains of her jacket and shirt, her dagger sliding out with ease. Bringing it to her lap, she takes a slow breath and fiddles with the handle, her hands shaking violently, skin stained with blood. It takes multiple tries before she can twist the crest and unlock the hidden compartment.

She remembers the hoarseness of Blue's voice when the Healer had pulled her aside one day to tell her about the secret of the royal dagger her family was required to keep hidden on their body at all times.

 _This is for only the gravest of moments. I hope you will never have to use it._

A single white pill drops into her palm. She closes her eyes and reaches out one last time, hoping, praying, that someone can hear her. That her last words will be delivered.

: _I'm sorry, Regina. I'm so sorry. I love you._ :

She swallows the pill.

* * *

"Go, Mercy! Faster!"

White hot rage burns through Regina's veins and it takes everything she has to keep it suppressed within her, hands clenching at Mercy's mane as the Companion gallops at top speed, the world around them nothing but a blur of color. Just behind them races Ember with Mal astride, the older Herald silent and grim.

Just a day ago, Mercy had caught a faint call from another Companion, a request for her to return to the Collegium immediately. They'd stopped at the nearest village and waited for further information, Mercy sending out a Mindcall regarding their location to whatever Companions were in range to hear her. Moments later and a scroll had popped into existence at Mercy's hooves, a trace of Baelfire's Gift lingering on the item. Regina read the letter with dread settling low in her belly, concerned at the brisk message written in Bae's scratchy handwriting.

 _Border war may be a diversion. Emma needs you. Get to Hardorn capital immediately._

She didn't know why Emma was in Hardorn to begin with, but the thought troubled her regardless and she and Mal had turned back while Jefferson continued on ahead to retrieve the Valdemaran troops at the Karse border.

Half a day into their journey towards Hardorn, Regina had cried out in pain and nearly fell out of the saddle, Mercy giving a startled shriek as her Herald slumped over. It was only because of her quick thinking in moving sideways against Ember that Mal was able to grab Regina and keep her upright.

"What happened?" Mal demanded, their mares stumbling to a stop as the older Herald leaned out of her saddle to grip Regina's shoulder. The brunette shook in place, arms wrapped tightly around herself as her head swung from side to side, her entire body breaking out in a cold sweat. Her eyes were bright with pain-induced tears, expression shocked.

"Something's wrong with Emma," she'd croaked out. She and Mal exchanged fearful looks before spurring their Companions into a frantic gallop, stopping for nothing as they headed straight for Hardorn. Hours later, as they came closer in range, other Companions with a stronger Gift for Mindspeech were able to relay information to Mercy and Ember.

:: _We've been betrayed by prince Killian of Hardorn,_ :: Mercy had repeated, every muscle tense with anger beneath Regina. :: _He's taken Emma hostage._ ::

"We're almost there," Mal shouts, breaking Regina out of her angry stupor. She glances over at the older Herald and Mal points ahead at the blue and white flag in the distance. "They've set up a war camp at the Hardorn border."

Regina wants to scream for blood, wants to shout _"Who cares about territory trespass when he's broken the peace treaty?"_ but instead she grits her teeth and says nothing at all, focussing on harnessing her anger for later, for when she tears Killian limb from limb and boils him alive from the inside out until he's screaming for the sweet release of death.

: _I will kill him,_ : she thinks viciously.

:: _He will not survive this betrayal,_ :: Mercy agrees darkly.

Ember leads the way as they finally reach the camp, dashing between the many tents of the Valdemaran soldiers and stampeding to a stop near the largest tent where Blanche, Pan, Drogo, and a bloodied Rolan wait together in terse silence. Mal and Regina leap from their Companions' saddles before they've even stopped and immediately disappear into the tent.

:: _Bug! Where's Bug?_ :: Mercy asks frantically when she takes note of the cuts and bruises on Rolan's body, nearly colliding into Drogo in her hurry.

:: _He's fine, but he's hiding near the Hardorn castle,_ :: Drogo says, nostrils flared. :: _That bastard prince has done something to Emma. Bug cannot contact her._ ::

She relaxes only slightly, relieved that the stallion is alive at least. Within the tent, Mal and Regina find the war council already discussing the situation with heated words, joined by a dozen other Heralds who have forced their way into the tent. Snow and David are at the forefront of it all, the Queen furious while David stands clutching gauze against a deep gash on his upper chest, looking two seconds away from murdering someone. Blue hovers just behind him, her face pinched with anger at his clear refusal for treatment but knowing better than to challenge the Queen's Own. Regardless, he looks like he might very well pass out, his uniform stained red in multiple places.

"Regina!" Baelfire cries out in relief, pushing past Ruby and Lily to pull Regina into his arms. "Thank Havens you're here!"

"Where is she?" Regina demands, her voice a harsh snarl as she elbows Baelfire off and steps right up to the table. From what little information they had been sent during their ride over, Emma had been accompanied by David and Hulda, and only David stands here now, daring to steadily meet her gaze.

"Hardorn castle," he growls, bitter. "It was a trap. Killian led Emma away and Hulda—bloody woman had magic, she had to be _Cora_ in disguise and she—"

" _Cora?_ " Regina nearly shrieks.

"She's working with Killian. She must have planned the fake war with Karse, perhaps even helped with assassinating King Brennan so that Killian could take over—"

"Regina!" Mal shouts, shoving the younger woman back at the first glimpse of flames flickering to life in her hands. "Control it!"

Regina snarls loudly in her throat but allows herself to be moved as Mal and Baelfire both yank her out of the tent, pushing her into the clearing outside before she can set something on fire.

"Save that for the bastard prince," Baelfire says fiercely, eyes alight. "You won't do any of us any good if you start losing control here."

Regina grits her teeth, motioning for him to get back to the tent while she sucks in a few deep breaths. Baelfire disappears through the flap, but marches back out a few moments later with a deep frown marring his face. Behind him, half a dozen Heralds reluctantly leave the tent as well, all save for the council members and war strategists.

"Mal, they want you in there," he says, jerking a thumb, and so the blonde trades places with him, heading in to join the council while Baelfire stands at Regina's side.

"What happened?" Regina asks, arms tightly crossed across her chest.

"Council-only," he says with a curl of his lip. "They're coming up with a plan as we speak. We're all to ready ourselves and await orders."

"How long will that take?"

"Too long," Bae mutters, starting to pace. "They have a few Heralds and Companions scattered from here to Hardorn castle, hidden so that they can relay messages back to us. Bug still hasn't been able to contact Emma. They've done something to block her off from us—we haven't even been able to See her."

They know she's not dead, at least. Every Herald in the entire kingdom would have felt the death of their princess.

"Are we supposed to just wait around here until they decide on a course of action?" Regina snaps, gesturing almost rudely towards the tent. Baelfire looks at her jerky, angry gestures and glances away, eyes shifting, thinking.

"There has to be something we can do," Regina continues fiercely. "If they are so indecisive then I will just charge in there myself. I'm a Firestarter, which of them will stop me?"

"A well-aimed arrow would stop you cold," Lily says, appearing next to them and drawing a snarl from Regina. "You can't go riding in alone. Hardorn castle is well fortified with archers in every tower and an entire army at its disposal. You're no use to Emma if you're dead."

"If we don't do something soon, _Emma_ will be dead," Regina hisses, leaning into the older brunette's personal space. Lily does not blink, her lips pursing together.

"I'm saying that there are smarter ways to rescue her."

"Like what?"

"Like using our Gifts."

Both women turn to where Baelfire has finally spoken up. His chin is in his hands and his brows are furrowed as he frowns at them.

"I'm a Fetcher," he says slowly. "I'll Fetch her here."

"The Gift doesn't work on _people_ ," Lily says, just as slowly and with great skepticism. "The last time a Herald with the Fetching Gift tried to move a person, they nearly killed themselves."

"This is _Emma_ we're talking about," Baelfire insists. "Regina's right, we can't sit around waiting for the council to strategize. We have to _try._ "

"It won't work if we can't even See her," Lily insists, frustrated.

:: _It may if we help._ ::

The trio turn their heads, surprised as Rolan moves up to them. His eyes are bright with determination, head held high as the other Companions gather behind him.

:: _We are more powerful together. Allow us to lend you our strength, and your Gifts may be able to break through whatever concealing spell has been placed on Emma._ ::

"Well?" Baelfire says, pinning Lily with a look. The brunette pauses, glances around as more Companions slowly move to encircle them, then gives a slow nod of her head.

"Alright. Fine. Let's find our girl."

Regina glares at her, but Lily ignores the pointed stare and instead holds out her hands for them, Baelfire grabbing her left hand while Regina grudgingly grabs her right. With their other hands, they grab onto Pan and Mercy. Around them, Rolan, Blanche, Drogo, and many more Companions huddle closer, their flanks and heads pressing together to link everyone up by touch.

"Here we go," Lily mutters, closing her eyes with a small shake of her head. Her Gift of Farsight bubbles up to the surface like second nature and she quickly tracks across the span of Hardorn, the scenery zipping by below her Sight as if she were flying. The castle comes into view a moment later and she dives into it without hesitation, peering through the unfamiliar corridors and halls. Her Sight blurs the deeper she gets into the castle, edges fading into black as she struggles against what feels like an invisible barrier trying to push her out. Baelfire and Regina's fingers squeeze around hers, both of them Seeing what she Sees and struggling alongside her.

:: _Cora's spell is trying to repel us from the castle,_ :: Rolan says. :: _We must break through it._ ::

Around them, the Companion herd shuffles anxiously in place, their ears swiveling around, blue eyes all squeezed shut in concentration. Their strength flows freely between each other, all siphoning through Baelfire and Regina and into Lily, bolstering her as she grits her teeth and pushes against the dark magic. It feels like cold pinpricks against her brain and on the backs of her eyes, the pain growing sharper and sharper until—a gasp of relief escapes her when the pain disappears suddenly, her Sight clearing as they forcibly break Cora's spell.

"We're through," she says, diving through the stone floors of the castle and further down underground. Baelfire's hand is almost painfully tight around hers.

"He put her in a dungeon?" he hisses, fury making his voice tremble.

"I will destroy him," Regina snarls.

"Hold steady," Lily insists, squeezing both their hands as she navigates her way through the darkness. The dungeon looks so dank and grimy that her nose wrinkles instinctively, even if she cannot actually smell what she is Seeing. Most of the cells are empty, though Bae's hand jerks slightly when they come across what looks to be the half-decayed remains of some poor prisoner, long forgotten.

A moment later, all three of them gasp.

" _Emma,_ " Regina cries out, Seeing the blonde sitting slumped against the far wall, her head hanging forward, something dark and sticky seeping through her hair on one side of her head. Her uniform is so shredded and soaked through with blood that she can't even tell where one injury ends and another begins.

"Grab her, Bae," Lily says, a touch of desperation in her voice now that she can See the state of her friend and past lover. "Hurry!"

Baelfire summons up his Gift with pinpoint precision, latching onto Emma's essence and trying to pull her to him, imagining teleporting her from one spot to another. The great distance between them—not to mention the fact that he is trying to transport something much larger than anyone has ever transported before—immediately puts a strain on him, like a strange pressure pulling on his brain, yanking against something that refuses to budge. He can feel the Companions pressing in closer around them, pushing their strength into him, urging him onwards. He pulls, harder and harder, and the pressure grows until it's distinctively painful, forcing him to grind his teeth together and tense every muscle in his body.

"Come on!" he whispers hoarsely, tears prickling the corners of his eyes and pain lancing through the forefront of his brain as he pulls with all his might. They can See Emma's body twitch slightly, her head bobbing a moment as if nudged. Something trickles down Baelfire's lip, and then there's a burst of white hot pain behind his eyes before he staggers in place, opening his eyes and instinctively breaking away from Lily.

"Bae," Regina says, opening her eyes to stare at him in concern. "You're bleeding."

He swipes a hand under his nose and finds blood. His head pounds as if he's been kicked by a horse and he's quite certain that his eyes are as bloodshot as they feel.

"Let me try again," he says, almost slurring, but Lily and Regina are quick to snap their disagreements.

"You're going to kill yourself," Lily hisses, regret in her eyes. "This was a bad idea. You need to see a Healer immediately."

"No, no." He pushes back at her when she tries to herd him away. "I can't bring her here, that's the problem. I've always been stronger at sending things away than Fetching them to me."

"What good will that do? You've done enough," Lily insists.

"I know what I have to do. I can do it." He slaps away Lily's hand again and pins Regina with a look. "I'll send you."

"Are you insane?" Lily nearly shouts, even as Regina's eyes widen in understanding.

"She needs you," Baelfire mumbles, grabbing onto Regina's hand. "She needs you. I can send you."

He grabs Lily again with his other hand as Pan moves behind him, letting him lean against his flank for support.

"Bae—"

"I know what I'm risking," he says lowly, squeezing her hand. "Now help me save Emma."

She grits her teeth, glaring fiercely at him as her other hand reaches out to rest on Drogo's back. "You'd better not die."

"Emma and Regina always said I was too stubborn to die," Baelfire chuckles, exchanging a look with Regina moments before Lily drags them back into her Sight. She finds Emma again in moments, the blonde still unconscious and unmoved. The cell is large, a big enough landing spot for the insane thing they're about to do.

"Try not to send me into the middle of a wall," Regina says dryly, her stomach twisting nervously as Baelfire's hand tightens on hers. No Fetcher has ever teleported a human being before for a reason.

"I'll try not to." The joke does little to relax anyone. Baelfire squeezes his eyes shut tightly and feels Regina next to him, her hand almost hot in his. The overwhelming pain is back almost immediately, even as the Companions crowd around them and share their strength. He sags heavily against Pan and cannot withhold a groan of pain.

"We need help!" Lily shouts out. The flap of the main tent opens and Snow, David, Ruby, and Mal all spill out, startled confusion on their faces as they take in the sight of the trio standing within the Companion herd.

"What's going on?" David demands.

"We're saving Emma," Regina growls, glancing up at them while Baelfire and Lily keep their eyes shut in concentration. "Now lend us your strength so that I can _burn Hardorn to the ground._ "

Snow's eyes flash, and then suddenly she's jumping in to place her hands on Blanche's neck, the rest of the council following her lead.

"Bring home your future Queen," Snow says. Baelfire growls low in his throat as their added strength gives him the push he needs to move Regina, forcing aside the blinding pain even as it feels like it splits his head in two. He squeezes Regina's hand hard enough to bruise, but suddenly her hand isn't in his, and his nails dig into his own palm.

Opening his eyes, he lets go of Lily and presses a fist against his lips, just under his nose. When the urge to puke fades, he lowers his hand and finds it drenched in blood.

"Oh, gods above, Bae," Lily whispers, reaching out to him with wide eyes.

"Is it bad?" he slurs, and then the world is turning sideways and he says no more.

* * *

One moment she's gripping Baelfire's hand and feeling his Gift warp and distort her very essence itself until she feels like she might be sick, and the next she's stumbling into the wrought iron bars of a cold and dark prison cell, the musk of earth telling her that she's underground in a foreign kingdom. Steadying herself against the bars, she turns and squints, slowly adjusting to the lack of light.

Her eyes immediately fall on the body still slumped lifelessly against the wall and her heart nearly lurches to a stop.

"Emma," she chokes out, dropping to her knees to pull the younger woman into her arms. Emma's still alive, barely, but the Lifebond that ties their souls together feels broken somehow, disconnected as if Emma is neither here nor there, stranded in limbo, and that is what terrifies Regina the most.

"Stay with me, my Queen," she whispers reverently, lips pressing to bloody, matted blonde hair. She hopes desperately that Emma can hear her, that she knows she hasn't abandoned her. Guilt and regret tears through her heart so suddenly that she nearly sobs; their last words to each other should have never been angry ones. It should have never been a goodbye. "I've got you now. I've got you and I will never leave you again. I'm taking you home, Em. Can you hear me? I'm taking you home."

With more physical strength than she ever thought she had, she stands up with Emma cradled protectively in her arms, rage coiling in her belly, white hot flames flickering to life around her like a protective ring and lighting up the prison cell like a beacon.

And then she sets everything ablaze.

* * *

Men are screaming. The smell of burning flesh is ripe in the air. Fire blazes along the floor at her heels like obedient dogs, sparks catch on rugs and tapestries, the flames spreading wild and vicious, lighting up the entire castle from within.

She's going to find Killian and Cora both, rip them limb from limb, burn them until they are no more than charred bones—but she needs to get Emma home first. Emma, who lays limp in her arms, a steady trickle of blood dripping from her body and leaving a trail on the floor. Emma, whose soul has apparently gone elsewhere even as her body stubbornly continues to breathe faint, laboured breaths.

She carries Emma all the way to the main entrance without too much trouble. A few brave fools try to stop her along the way and she is quick to set them on fire with a simple thought, refusing to let any more harm come to Emma. Killian and Cora are strangely absent, and though a part of her is furious, another part is relieved.

She wants to have both hands free when she kills them.

:: _Regina!_ ::

She glances up as they step out from the smoking entryway, blinking through the ashes to see Bug bolting towards them. His pelt is stained by blood and numerous lacerations mar his flanks, but he doesn't even seem to feel them as he thunders to a stop at their side.

:: _Quick, get on!_ ::

Regina has no choice but to toss Emma across Bug's back as carefully as she can before swinging up into the saddle and securing her arms around the blonde's limp body.

"Go!" she shouts as more soldiers rush out from within the burning castle, holding on to the saddle for dear life as Bug bursts forward. Arrows zip past them and Bug manages to evade all but one, an angry sound escaping him as it buries itself in his flank, and then they're thundering through the forest and leaving the Hardorn castle far behind. Everything feels almost surreal, how easily she'd escaped the castle with Emma in her arms. She cranes her head around to look and is in awe when she realizes that the castle is being devoured by an inferno.

She doesn't know if Mal would be impressed at her power or disappointed at her lack of control. Not that she was really trying to control it. Let Hardorn burn.

:: _What's happened to her?_ :: Bug's voice cries in her mind, scared and desperate, jarring her from her thoughts.

: _I don't know, Bug, but we'll save her, I promise._ : It's not a promise she should make when Emma already looks half dead in her arms, but Regina refuses to believe the alternative. Emma can't die. She _refuses_ to let her die. The blood oath scar on her hand almost burns in agreement.

:: _Come to me! I have the Princess!_ :: Bug projects as far as his Mindspeech can go. He receives several responses from other Heralds and Companions and within minutes, they're being joined by riders and Companions in all white, the group growing as they get closer and closer to the border, a blinding convoy to escort the princess home.

* * *

It takes a few hours to reach their camp at the border between Hardorn and Valdemar. Everyone swarms them when they arrive, bodies in green rushing to tend to their wounds, Blue in particular examining Emma with frantic eyes as soon as the blonde is laid out on a stretcher. Regina refuses to be separated from her and even pushes Mal away when the older woman notices the soot and burns on her clothes.

"What did you do?" Mal questions lowly, to which Regina only glares at her and says,

"What I had to."

They're taken into a medical tent where David lays covered in salves and gauze. Snow bursts into tears at the first sight of her daughter and merely stands out of the way as the team of healers get to work. It's Regina and Blue they have to work around, and they do it without complaint, though their eyes are tight and their lips pursed as they cut away Emma's clothes and really see the extent of her wounds.

"I'm going to kill Cora," Regina whispers, eyes blurring with angry tears as she counts the many blackened cuts marring Emma's pale body.

"The magic wounds are the least of our worries," Blue says, tilting Emma's head back to open her jaw and examine her mouth. She shoves a hand beneath the blonde's body to feel for her hidden dagger and curses when it's not there. "Her dagger, did you see it?"

Regina startles slightly, struggling to remember. It was hard to notice anything other than Emma's torn body. "I... Yes, I think so. It was on the floor next to her."

Blue's eyes squeeze shut. "No. She took the pill."

"Pill?" Regina repeats, alarmed. "What pill?"

"In the dagger. Every royal family member has one." Blue opens her eyes and looks at Regina almost apologetically. "In the case of disaster, if they are trapped or held hostage..."

"No!" Regina cries out, grabbing onto Emma's cold, clammy hand and shaking her. "No! You idiot! I was coming for you! _Why didn't you wait for me?_ " She lunges over the table to grab Blue, shaking the woman hard enough to leave bruises. "There has to be something you can do!"

"Regina," Snow says, moving closer to pull Regina back, and though she is still crying openly, her expression is fierce. "Isabeau, there's still time, surely you can counteract the poison?"

"I can try, but for how many hours have passed, she may not even fully recover," Blue warns, already rummaging through vials of potions and ingredients on the table just behind her. Snow just nods, hugging Regina tightly as the younger brunette trembles.

"Do it," the Queen commands, and then waves for the Herald standing by the door. "Prepare a transport carriage. As soon as my daughter is stable, she and Regina are going back to Haven."

The Herald nods, ducking away. Regina startles into awareness and twists around to look at Snow, eyes wide.

"Your Majesty—?"

"You two will be safer there," Snow says softly, clasping Regina's hand and giving it a squeeze as they both watch Blue carefully administer some sort of bright green liquid into Emma's mouth. "I imagine Killian is calling in his entire army now that he no longer has leverage. There's going to be war, and I can only rest easy if I know you're protecting Emma back at home."

Inevitably, tears well up in Regina's eyes and she chokes back a sob. "I should have gone to Hardorn with her. She might die because of me."

"She's _not_ going to die, Regina, because you saved her." Gentle fingers brush her tears away and green eyes, much like Emma's, bore into hers. "She will pull through this, and then you two are going to stop being stubborn and admit that you love each other. I want grandchildren before I die, damn it."

Regina laughs and cries at the same time.

* * *

The trip back to Haven is quick as their carriage is pulled by Companions, with Bug and Mercy bringing up the rear, the former sporting a myriad of hastily applied bandages after the healers had removed the arrow from his side. They're transported into the Healers building immediately upon arrival and Regina is horrified to learn that Baelfire is there too, comatose in a bed next to Emma's.

"Is he going to be alright?" she asks of the healers, standing back only so that they can quickly and efficiently tend to all of Emma's many wounds.

"Only time will tell," a healer replies, glancing over at Bae with pity. "It's a miracle he didn't give himself a brain aneurysm."

By the time they finish with Emma, the blonde is pale and colorless, completely wrapped up in gauze and smelling of pungent salves. Her wounds will close but the dead flesh will remain a black color, forever marring her body with crisscrossing gashes of black. Regina glances over to Baelfire, remembers his black scar too, and cannot help but give a small, bitter laugh.

"Look at the lot of us," she murmurs, "All cut and scarred by my mother." Her eyes close and she lifts Emma's hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm sorry."

Neither of her friends have a reply for her.

Half a day later, her back and neck aching and her eyes sore from crying, Regina lifts her head to see one of the Healers entering the room. The woman—Nova is her name—is sweet, her eyes kind as she tiptoes over and offers a bread roll and a glass of water to Regina. Her stomach immediately growls for sustenance and she accepts with a tired, grateful smile. She can't remember when she last ate.

"Why isn't she awake yet?" Regina asks in a scratchy voice after gobbling down the bread roll, washing it down with a gulp of water. Nova regards Emma with soft eyes, her lower lip pinched between her teeth.

"The poison she took, it was meant to kill, and I think it did the job halfway. She was ready for death—she could very well still be awaiting it."

Regina stares at her. "What does that mean?"

Nova leans over, setting a hand on Emma's forehead for a moment and shutting her eyes in concentration. When she pulls back, her expression is grim but determined. "Her soul is awaiting death, Regina. Only someone with a powerful bond to her could call her back from the edge."

The healer gives her a significant look and Regina pales. "You mean—"

:: _Even I cannot reach her where she has gone,_ :: Bug says softly, his voice a tentative warmth in her mind. :: _Only you may be able to save her now._ ::

Regina stares down at Emma's face, relaxed, almost as if she were just sleeping. Nova slips away to give her privacy, but all she can think about is, _What if it doesn't work?_ If she cannot bring her back... she isn't sure how she can go on, knowing she'd failed to protect her oathbound. Her _love._

:: _Don't be afraid,_ :: Bug says, much like she has said to Emma so often. She takes a deep breath, repeating the mantra to herself. Emma's hand is cool in hers and she stands, leaning over the blonde, using her other hand to gently tuck errant curls away from Emma's face.

"I love you, Emma," she whispers, both aloud and through Mindspeech, willing for Emma to hear her, calling out to her wayward soul. _:Come back to me.:_

She presses her lips ever so gently to Emma's, their first kiss, a plea for a miracle. When seconds pass and nothing happens, Regina slowly lowers her head to Emma's chest, the gauze soaking up her tears as she weeps. She doesn't know what she's supposed to do now, doesn't know what she's supposed to do without the stubborn blonde in her life.

"You call?" a voice croaks. Regina's head snaps up. She almost drowns in the most beautiful pair of green eyes she's ever seen.

"What?" she gasps.

"I heard you," Emma wheezes softly, a smile lifting her lips. "You called for me."

Regina wants to cry. She wants to laugh. She wants to shout. Instead she just stares. "You were trying to die."

"To be fair, I couldn't let him use me to take over my kingdom."

"I was _coming_ for you. You should have waited for me."

"I was never very patient. You made it in time, didn't you?"

Regina slaps her on the shoulder.

"Ow!" Emma cries out, choking with laughter. Tears are in her eyes and she looks up at Regina's half furious, half joyful expression with a smile that is pure adoration. "I love you too, Ginny."

"I— I didn't—" and Regina looks flustered and embarrassed, swiping frantically at her wet eyes and trying to hold onto her anger. Emma just tugs her closer.

"I love you, like I want to kiss you and marry you and one day have an entire hoard of children with you kind of love. I love you, Regina."

"I love you too, you stupid _idiot_ ," Regina sniffs wetly.

"About damned time," a voice to their side says, and they both glance over to find Baelfire conscious and grinning over at them. His eyes are unfocused and his words are slurred, but he's awake against all the odds nonetheless, grinning like a fool. "Now kiss."

For once in their life, they shut up and do as Baelfire asks.

Later, when healers have returned to marvel at Emma and Bae's recovery from the world of the half-dead to the world of the living, Emma grabs Regina's sleeve and her expression grows deadly serious.

"There's something important I have to tell you. Killian said..."

* * *

It's nice to be back in her own bed, even if her entire body still hurts and stinks of salves and poultices. She's wearing a tunic to cover most of her bandages, sitting with her back against the headboard, the furs pulled up to her lap. When the anticipated knock sounds on her bedroom door, she sucks in a fortifying breath and calls out, "Come in."

Joaidane enters the room, his expression pinched with worry, eyes brightening when he sees her sitting up and looking quite well, all things considered.

"Emma! Oh, you're alright! I was so afraid when I'd heard the news. Are you well?" He hobbles closer, leaning more heavily on his cane than usual, and looks her over for injury. Emma gives him a reassuring smile, patting at her bed for him to take a seat.

"I'm fine, Joaidane, really. They didn't have the chance to hurt me too badly."

He perches gingerly on the edge of the bed, trying his best not to jostle her, and lays a gentle hand on her knee.

"I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. Who would have thought prince Killian could have been so terrible..."

"He was deluded," Emma agrees, "But Hulda was worse."

"Hulda?" Joaidane repeats, shocked.

"Yes. She was actually Cora in disguise." Emma nods even as Joaidane gapes at her. "It turns out she was behind the Karse attacks. She was working with Killian, to frame Karse and convince me to marry him so that he could control both kingdoms."

"How awful," he says lowly, shaking his head with disgust.

"Indeed. When their first plan failed, they were going to hold me hostage and force my parents to give Valdemar over to them." Emma shakes her head. "He was going to make Cora the Queen of Valdemar. Can you imagine?"

Joaidane stiffens. Emma sighs again, this time in real disappointment. The anger and betrayal is radiating from him in waves.

"That would have been very unfortunate," he says, standing and readjusting the cane in his hands. His accent sounds thicker somehow, more strangled. "Well, you've been through quite the ordeal, dearie. I'll let you rest now."

He turns, taking a few steps towards the door when Emma's voice stops him.

"You planned this since before I was even born, didn't you?" He freezes in place. "This entire grand scheme—for what? To finally control Valdemar? Did you even care about my mother? About my grandmother? Were they just pawns to you?"

She stares at his back, willing him to turn around. When he finally does, it's with the handle of his cane clutched in his hand, the hidden knife within it revealed.

"You ruined everything!" he hisses, lunging at her. Emma doesn't even wince, just jerks her arm towards him and watches in dismay as he crumples to the floor, a throwing knife deeply embedded in his chest. On the far end of the room, Regina steps out from her hiding place, her bow in hand and her expression grim, an arrow still notched. From the door, Baelfire enters, his sword in hand as he carefully approaches Joaidane's body from behind.

"For high treason and attempted murder of the future Queen of Valdemar," Emma says somberly, taking comfort and strength in the way Regina grabs her hand and links their fingers together, watching as Joaidane glares up at them, blood dribbling from his mouth, "I hereby sentence you to death, Rumplestiltskin."

He coughs, choking slightly, and twists around as Baelfire stands over him, waiting to inflict the final blow if Rumplestiltskin does not succumb to the knife first.

"Bae," he gasps out, one hand reaching for him, eyes bright with tears. His lips move desperately, but he gurgles on blood and his words are soundless. Baelfire knows he is missing something, something important, but he thinks of all the harm that has come to Emma and Regina, and he loves them more than he cares to know what this traitor has to say. He doesn't _want_ to know.

"You brought this on yourself," he says, watching as the life fades from Rumplestiltskin's eyes. He thinks of the life he'd lived on the streets before Pan rescued him, of the scar on his own stomach, thinks of the matching scars Emma and Regina will have for the rest of their lives, and he has no regrets as he drops his sword and regards the two women sitting on the bed with a softness in his eyes. He's already found his family.

* * *

"So, Lifebonded, huh?"

Emma and Regina lay together in silence, connected from head to toe, not wanting to be apart. They're in a guest room in the royal palace now, while others deal with removing Rumplestiltskin's body from Emma's bedroom. Regina breathes in deeply and lets it go in a soft sigh, nestling her head in under Emma's chin, mindful of the blonde's many wounds.

"Yes. Our souls are connected, much like how we are each connected to our Companions. It's how I knew you were... hurt."

Emma turns her head to press a kiss into dark hair. "I'm sorry for scaring you like that."

"Yes, well..." Regina sniffs. "You should be."

Emma hums softly against her, arms gliding up along Regina's back and arms, drowning in the pleasure of being nestled in her embrace again. She's missed her best friend.

"I love you."

She can feel Regina's lips curve into a smile against her collarbone. "You've said that five times in as many minutes, dear."

"Because it's true. I love you. So, so much. I've always loved you, even if I didn't always know it."

"I love you too, Em."

Regina kisses her then, lips pressing sweetly against her collarbone, breath tickling her skin. Emma shivers and cannot withhold a moan. Experimentally, Regina parts her lips and gives a gentle nibble.

"Havens, Ginny, this isn't fair. You can't do that when I'm too injured to move," Emma whines, feeling her entire body flush with pleasure as lips and teeth suck on her collarbone teasingly. The resulting chuckle from the brunette is deep and throaty, doing far too many things to Emma's libido.

"You don't need to move," Regina purrs, fingertips trailing their way down Emma's chest and stomach, teasing at the hem of her tunic. Emma's chest heaves, eyes wide.

"R-Really? But—"

"Let me do this, Emma, please?" Regina lifts her head to kiss her, eyes soft, pleading. "I want you. _So much._ "

"I wish I could—"

"I know." Regina kisses her again, gentle and understanding. A hand finds Emma beneath the furs and beneath her loose clothing, her touch careful, tentative and loving. Emma nearly arches into her, groaning, the pain of her injuries muddled by the warmth seeping through her body, the feeling of being so tenderly cared for, worshipped.

"Regina," Emma gasps, toes curling as her lover enters her, each stroke a silent profession of her love. Her head tilts back and her mouth falls open, chest heaving as she moans out her pleasure and encouragement. Regina covers her with kisses the entire time, lips pressing to her face, her jaw, her neck.

Emma comes with a strangled cry of Regina's name, and afterwards, she curls into Regina's embrace, trembling, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Em? Emma?" Regina kisses the tears away, heart aching as she strokes damp blonde hair. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"I love you," Emma croaks, love shining in her wet eyes. She is almost overwhelmed, her heart bursting at the seams, so full of love, so touched that someone could make love to her with such adoration, like she is the most important person in her world, like she's the only person who _matters_. "I love you."

"I love you too," Regina whispers, kissing her. They cling together, bodies fitting together perfectly, and she realizes for the first time in her life that this is what feeling complete is like. This is what feeling truly happy is like.

* * *

Though she's not exactly in a state to be moving around after just a few days of rest, Emma is impossibly stubborn, and she has absolutely no shame in using every trick in her arsenal to get her way when Regina insists she has to go back to the border to help in the war.

"You can't leave me behind, I'm your Lifebond," Emma had whined, pouting quite fiercely.

"I regret telling you about that," Regina had grumbled, but she'd promptly pinned Emma down and kissed her silly, so she couldn't very well continue arguing against it.

In the end, the terrible trio—because Baelfire insisted that he would forever be their loyal third wheel and _No, you can't get rid of me_ —traveled together by carriage back to the border, surprising every Herald and Companion at the army's camp.

"Look at that, all three of you fools survived," Lily had said when she first saw them, shaking her head and grinning. When they stepped into the main tent, Snow nearly smothered them all with hugs while David was the one to burst into tears.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered into her hair, clutching her tightly to him even as they both winced from their wounds.

"Not a chance," she'd murmured against his chest. "You raised me to be a fighter, daddy."

He held her close and cried a little more as Snow caught them up on what was happening; their forces were skirmishing with Hardorn forces just on the border, but they were being slowly pushed back as Cora's magic tore into their ranks. The council had been struggling to come up with a way to defeat the powerful mage and no one wanted to risk more lives than were necessary.

"It's a good thing I decided to come, then," Regina finally says, setting her hands on the table as the entire council looks at her in surprise. "Mal and I can take Cora down and win us back the advantage."

"We're not exactly precise, dear," Mal reminds her dryly, "If we use our Gifts, we'll hurt our own forces, too."

"Not if we call a retreat," Ruby interrupts, excited. "We sound the signal, have our people flee, and as soon as they're clear, you hit Cora with everything you have."

Regina looks to Mal. "It would turn the tide of the battle."

"What is it with young ones and running into the middle of the battlefield?" Mal sighs, but she does not disagree with the plan. Ruby forges on ahead, fingers tapping aggressively at the map laid out on the table.

"Last I've heard, Killian's encampment is all the way back here, the coward. We get an inferno going, turn everyone's attention on the loss of their mage, and we can sneak a splinter group right through to take down the head of the snake."

"With Killian dead, the war ends," Emma surmises, nodding. "Good. I'm in."

"No, you're not," Snow says, lifting an eyebrow at her daughter. "You're staying here and taking over for me while I deal with prince Killian."

" _You?_ " Emma repeats dumbly, mouth agape, because her mother is so small and elegant in her gowns and robes, and how could the tiny Queen defeat the prince of Hardorn?

"I _am_ a Herald, you know," Snow says dryly, ignoring the laughter from the council members. At least _they_ still remember that she can land an arrow squarely in someone's eye without even blinking. "And unlike you, I do not look like I've been mauled by a group of bears. It's not up for discussion, Emma."

Emma opens her mouth to argue, but Regina's hand tugs her back and she turns to meet the brunette's smouldering gaze.

"Stay here, where I know you will be able to rest and recover," Regina whispers, speaking just loud enough for Emma to hear. "Please."

Her hand, the one with the oath blood scar, is warm on her wrist, fingertips grazing at her pulse, dark eyes pleading for her to be safely out of the way, and just like that Emma feels herself melt to the other woman's request. It's hard not to remember the look on Regina's face when she'd first woken up, the way Regina had cried because she'd thought she'd died.

"As you wish," Emma breathes out, expression falling. "Be safe out there."

Regina nods, a million silent words in her eyes. It's Emma that ignores everyone in the tent and moves forward to hug her, pulling the brunette's slightly smaller form into her and molding together with easy familiarity. When she turns her head to press a soft kiss into dark hair, she can see Snow and David beaming at her over Regina's shoulder.

"Killian and Cora will pay," Regina whispers when she pulls back, meeting Emma's gaze with fierce determination. Emma just smiles wryly.

"Just come back to me."

"Always."

Regina releases her, nodding to Mal before the two Firestarters leave the tent to begin preparations. Snow pulls Emma to the table with David and Ruby and they go over the new plan thrice over before Snow nods and steps out, suiting up for battle. Ruby soon follows suit after sufficiently kissing Belle goodbye, always ready to lead the charge.

"Your mother will be fine," David says when he sees Emma's concerned glance. "She was a Herald before she was Queen."

"And you'll get to keep an eye over her and Regina," Lily adds as she and Kathryn move forward, circling the table with Emma and offering out their hands. "We will be your eyes."

"And us, your voice," Belle and Baelfire also join the circle, hands held out. Bae leans heavily on a cane, his body still weak and his sense of balance not quite the same since overusing his Gifts, but his smile is determined. "We'll send messages across the battlefield to help you communicate with the troops."

With a deep breath, and with David's comforting hand on her back, Emma completes the circle of conjoined hands and gazes down upon the map.

"Alright. Let's win this war."

* * *

It's like the calm before a storm, their hearts beating too loud in their chests and their breaths coming too ragged as they sit and wait, Regina atop Mercy and Mal atop Ember next to them. They stand upon a low cliff overhang, watching the plains before them, the edge of the forest where two colors of kingdom soldiers clash and collide. From above the trees, black smoke drifts intermittently into the air, not the smoke of fire but of dark magic.

"Are you ready?" Mal asks, her gray eyes staring ahead with the intensity of a hawk. Regina takes a deep breath and nods.

"As I'll ever be."

After a pause, Mal glances over at her. "And Emma?"

They've never needed many words between them, always understanding each other with ease. Regina's lips ease into a small but genuine smile. "Waiting for me."

Mal nods. "Good. We'd best get you back to her in one piece, then."

"That would be preferable, yes."

A soldier in the distance shouts something like a battle cry. The rest follow suit, and suddenly the glint of blue and silver armor comes pouring out of the forest, retreating back towards Valdemar and leaving the Hardorn troops slightly uncertain but slowly trying to chase after them.

The whistle of an arrow catches their attention moments before the arrow lands in the dirt next to them, a gray ribbon fluttering from its shaft.

"Merry met, Herald Regina," Mal says respectfully, reaching across the space between them to clasp Regina's arm. Regina squeezes her in return, smiling grimly, her heart jumping up into her throat.

"And merry meet again, Herald Mal."

Mercy and Ember both launch forward, muscles suddenly in motion as they leap from the short cliff and thunder towards the enemy line, their riders leaning forward over their necks with their eyes blazing, almost reflecting the fire within. The retreating Valdemar soldiers veer aside to clear a path for them, allowing them easy access to the incoming Hardorn soldiers. With teeth grit in concentration, they set the enemy alight, jets of fire bursting into existence across the field in all directions to slam into the soldiers and send them tumbling to the ground with screams.

In a matter of moments, the plains catch fire, sparks crackling beneath their hooves as their Companions stampede through like angels of death, their riders raining down fire.

They don't make it to the treeline before Cora shows herself, bursting out from the trees with rage twisting her face into something ugly and terrifying. Thick black smoke trails from her body like a deadly cloak and she swings her arms wildly, sending bursts of black magic at them like projectiles.

Mal and Regina separate quickly, Ember veering to the left while Mercy dodges to the right. They kick as they run, slamming soldiers aside and trampling them beneath their hooves. Regina is careful to keep an eye on the soldiers, not wanting to risk any one of them cutting at Mercy with a sword. Something dark and carrying the iciness of death flies over her head and she instinctively ducks, glaring at her mother as they quickly close the distance.

Fire roils up within her like lava and she sets it loose, intending on crashing a wave of fire into her mother's body. Cora retaliates with a wall of darkness and the two forces collide before cancelling each other out with a burst of light.

: _Get me closer,_ : Regina thinks, : _She likes to fight from afar._ :

:: _Gladly,_ :: Mercy replies, snorting aggressively as she dodges another orb of death. From Cora's other side, Mal and Ember are charging in as well, encircled in a ring of fire. They reach Cora first, rushing her with a shield of fire. Cora lurches backwards away from the flames, swinging her arm around in an arc and slamming them sideways with a burst of magic, the fire just barely singeing Cora's hair before extinguishing in a puff. Mal is thrown off immediately with a cry of alarm while Ember shrieks and falls hard, rolling on impact, hooves kicking out helplessly in the air.

"Mal!" Regina shouts, drawing Cora's attention to herself. She can't lose control here, not while Mal and Ember are so close, so she holds in the fiery inferno threatening to break free and instead launches herself from Mercy's saddle, colliding into Cora and sending them both crashing to the ground.

" _Regina,_ " Cora snarls, pain crossing her features as she rolls to her elbows and struggles to stand. Regina groans but leaps to her feet, as nimble and strong as ever.

"Mother," she snarls back, drawing her flames to her hands and nursing a white-hot ball of fire in each palm. The skin of her palms tighten at the heat but she ignores it. "Any last words?"

"Last words?" Cora scoffs, mirroring Regina as darkness solidifies in her hands, writhing and pulsing like a living thing. "You haven't seen me in years, dear. Won't you even come hug your mother?"

"I've seen you, _Hulda,_ " she spits, "and you're going to regret ever laying a hand on Emma."

Cora just clicks her tongue disapprovingly, lip curled up in a sneer. "The blonde princess. Really, Regina? Bad enough that you ran away from home, but then you had to get in the way of our plans, too. No matter. Valdemar will be ours, and then Mommy will correct your ways."

A tremor of disgust runs up her spine, her old scars tingling at the memory of her mother holding her down, cutting into her flesh with her magic, crooning all the while about how she's doing it for her own good, righting her wrongs.

Regina screams and lashes out, her fire colliding with Cora's magic. Sparks fly with every strike, setting the yellow grass around them on fire. The black smoke of Cora's magic lingers in the air and makes it harder and harder to see, choking her lungs as her strength slowly seeps from her the longer they fight. Her body is growing tired and she feels drained, eyes blurring with tears as the smoke stings at them. They lose each other in the thick smoke, Regina breathing hard, struggling to quiet herself as to not give herself away.

When she stands unmoving for a long moment, trying to find her mother, a hand shoots out from the smoke and catches her around the neck, magic piercing her skin and numbing her body in seconds. She cries out in alarm before even her vocal chords are tight and choked.

"You should know better than to fight me, dear," Cora hisses into her ear, her other arm wrapping around Regina's body in some perverse embrace. "I do this for your own good. After all, mother knows best."

"Regina!" Mal's voice calls out distantly, lost within the smoke obscuring the field. "Regina!"

Cora clicks her tongue. "She won't do. I'll have to kill her. And then I'll have to kill the princess, too. I can't have you distracted, my dear."

"Don't you touch her," Regina forces out, grunting painfully as her mother's hand tightens around her throat. "I'll kill you— if it's the last thing I do—"

"Oh, Regina," Cora sighs, pity in her eyes. "I thought I raised you better than this. You should never have gotten attached to that girl. Love is weakness."

 _Come back to me,_ Emma's voice repeats in her mind, filling her with warmth and comfort and adoration, chasing away the chill in her bones and stoking the fire within her soul once more until she feels the inferno roaring with life and begging to be released. _I love you._

"No," Regina gasps out, grabbing onto Cora's wrist with both her hands, her skin feeling like armor made out of lava. Cora shrieks and tries to jerk away, her skin instantly bubbling and melting under Regina's grasp. "Love is strength."

Regina shoves her away, stepping back with narrowed eyes as Cora stares at her, furious and betrayed, and then the woman is engulfed by a geyser of fire, her shrill voice piercing the air as she screams an inhuman sound.

From the fading smoke around them, Mercy finally finds her with a huff of relief and immediately loops her head over Regina's shoulder, allowing the brunette to sag against her chest. Nearby, Mal and Ember pick their way across the still sizzling battleground, both looking a little battered but otherwise just fine.

"You did it," Mal whispers, staring at the tightly twisting geyser of fire. Cora's screams have stopped, and the flaming battlefield around them is silent. The flames eventually die out with a hiss, and a black and unrecognizable lump is all that's left on the ground.

"Yes," Regina swallows, her throat sore and dry as sand. For all that Cora had cut and tortured Emma in some sadistic game, Regina had thought she would take much greater joy in avenging her love, or at least drag out her death so that she would suffer the way Emma had suffered. Instead, all she feels is a drained sort of relief, finally free of the dark shadow that had loomed over her shoulder all her life, free of the monster that had dared to cut into Emma.

Regina's Mindspeech has never been particularly strong, but Emma's is, able to reach across much farther distances, and so she cannot help but smile when she hears the faintest trace of the blonde's voice touching the edge of her mind, : _Come home to me now, my love.:_

"Come on," she says aloud, slowly dragging herself up into Mercy's saddle as Mal hops up onto Ember. "Let's go home."

* * *

 _Cora has fallen._

Snow reads Baelfire's cramped handwriting three times over before letting the tiny scroll fall from her fingers. Next to her, Ruby watches for her reaction while their small group of soldiers stands at attention behind them.

"Move out," Snow commands, her legs tightening around Blanche as she and Ruby, atop Beast, lead the way. "And remember—Killian is mine."

They circle around through the deep woods, creeping up on the Hardorn camp in practiced silence. The enemy does not know what has hit them when Snow gives a battle cry and her soldiers charge in like a tidal wave, crashing through the tents and taking down unsuspecting soldiers before they can even think to pick up their weapons. Ruby and Snow are already on the ground when they approach the main tent, swords drawn, Blanche and Beast kicking in the skulls of any soldier that dares try to intervene.

Killian looks rightfully stunned when he steps out from the tent and finds himself on the pointy end of a rapier.

"Queen Snow," he says slowly in realization, a crooked smile twisting at his lips, his hands held up peacefully. "It seems you've caught me."

"No," Snow says, smiling tightly. She circles him a little to grab a sword out of a nearby weapon's rack and promptly tosses it to him. He fumbles to catch it, a look of confusion passing his features as she backs away to give him breathing room. "I'm not in the habit of taking prisoners, you see, and since I cannot let you go free for the crimes you've committed, well..."

Glancing suspiciously at Ruby before looking back at Snow, Killian carefully takes up a fighting position, his sword at the ready. "A duel to the death?"

Snow twirls her rapier as Ruby stands guard over their match, she and their Companions keeping everyone else away. "Indeed."

She lunges forward then, almost catching Killian off guard, but he is well versed in the ways of the sword and quickly parries her, not one to lose ground. Their blades clash together, clanging and clattering fiercely with each blow. The look in Snow's eyes is wild with adrenaline and anger. Her lips curl back over her teeth.

"Emma had some very intriguing news."

He grunts, deflecting her next attack. "I assume it had to do with me."

"And your friend Rumplestiltskin, the _traitor,_ and how he was responsible for Emma being stolen from my arms all those years ago."

Killian smirks, slashing back at her. "I would have taken very good care of her."

With a fierce swing and twist of her wrist, Snow sends his sword flying. His mouth falls open in surprise and she pulls her arm back, rapier pointed forward, smile deadly.

"Not my daughter, you bastard."

She puts her blade right through him, the wristguard pressed to his chest. He sways on the spot, eyes unfocusing. Blood trickles from his mouth and he swallows thickly, as if not quite certain of what's just happened.

"But... she..." He blinks at her, stunned. "She's mine."

"She belongs to no one." Snow coils her leg up, places it on his stomach, and pushes. He slides from her blade and collapses backwards, sprawled out on the dirt with a glassy look in his eyes, chest heaving with his final breaths. At her side, Ruby touches her shoulder while Blanche and Beast shuffle over, the mare making sure to purposely kick up dirt on Killian's body.

"You're still terrifying, you know that?" Ruby says, chuckling softly. Snow grins at her and leans down to wipe the blood from her rapier off on Killian's pant leg.

"A good mother will go to great lengths to defend her child. Now let's go home. You can do the honors and drag Hardorn's flag."

Ruby grins, moving to retrieve the enemy kingdom's flag and attach it to Beast's saddle. She and Snow will ride through the battlefield with it, and when the Hardorn soldiers see the evidence of their defeat, they will surrender and the war will finally be done.

* * *

"Regina!"

Emma's voice is the first to carry across the war camp when she and Mal arrive to the cheers of their people. News of Killian's death had reached them almost as soon as it had happened, spreading quickly via Mindspeech as the Companions eagerly passed the news along, and thus everyone is gathered along the edge of the camp to watch for their returning warriors.

Sliding from Mercy's saddle, Regina can only beam as Emma runs at her and instantly scoops her up in a hug. They're both wincing as their injuries are pressed upon, but neither care enough to stop.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Emma whispers, face buried between Regina's neck and shoulder. Regina rests her chin upon the blonde's shoulder and closes her eyes, body relaxing into the embrace, the two women leaning against each other for support.

"It's over."

Emma pulls back, hands cupping Regina's face and peering into her eyes with a great deal of concern. Regina just blinks, brows knitting together.

"Are you alright?" Emma asks softly.

"I'm fine, Emma." Her hands settle atop Emma's, lips lifting into a tired smile. "I would really like to lay down for a moment, though. Somewhere quiet."

Sure enough, as Emma looks around, she realizes they're the center of attention. Everyone is staying back out of respect, but they look like they want to lift Regina atop their shoulders and cheer her name. Mal has already been swept up by others.

"Let's go rest for a while," Emma agrees, taking Regina by the hand and leading the way. Baelfire just smiles at them and moves to intercept anyone who looks like they might try to talk to them, but Lily slips in from out of nowhere to hug them both.

"Well done," she says, face flushed with joy and relief at their victory. Despite having worked together to rescue Emma, Regina is still no more comfortable with the older woman and immediately expresses her dislike in the form of a glare as Lily's arm lingers around Emma's shoulder. Emma, for her part, elbows Lily gently until they're detached.

"We're going to go lay down for a while, why don't you join the others? I'm sure they've already broken out the spirits for the Queen's return," Emma suggests with a wry smile. Lily chuckles and rolls her eyes at the both of them.

"Fine, fine. You deserve the rest."

She flounces off and Emma and Regina are quick to slip away into one of the large private tents, tying the door flaps shut behind them. There's a wide bed box set up, along with a table and some chairs and a basin of water. Emma coaxes Regina into shedding her soot-stained uniform, eventually slumping into a chair in her underclothes. Dipping a cloth into the water basic and wringing it out, Emma gets to work cleaning the ash from the other woman's body, gentle and dutiful as she uncovers the honey colored skin below.

"Did she hurt you?" Emma questions, eyes skittering down to the new flesh on display. This is the most she's seen of Regina's body so far, and though she is genuinely concerned about injuries, her gaze is soft and appreciative, adoring even.

"Not much," Regina says, voice hoarse. "I'll be fine."

Finishing with her work, Emma takes her hands and leads her to the bed, coaxing her down next to her so that they can lay together and relax a while. Regina is wordless as she tugs on the hem of Emma's tunic, and soon they're pressed together beneath the furs, bare skin against bare skin, save for a few bandages still wrapped around Emma's limbs. With mingling body heat, they're pleasantly warm within their cocoon and Regina can't help but moan with pleasured relief, sinking back into Emma's embrace, her muscles finally relaxing.

"Comfortable?" Emma asks, her voice a low rumble. Regina nods, nuzzling her face into the stuffed pillow as Emma's breasts press against her back. Feather-light kisses trail across her bare shoulder and she shivers, releasing a happy sigh. After a moment, Emma's palm settles on her belly and pushes gently. "Lay back, Ginny."

"Mm?" Regina rolls onto her back when Emma shifts away, frowning slightly at her departure before her eyes widen in surprise. Blonde hair has disappeared beneath the furs and she can feel Emma crawling down the bed, settling between Regina's knees with her hands trailing down her hips. "Emma, what are you—"

"I've wanted to taste you ever since you made love to me that night," Emma husks, her green eyes glinting in the darkness when Regina lifts the furs to peer down at her. "Now that I've recovered enough to move around..."

Her head dips down and she gets the taste she's been waiting for, arms wrapping around Regina's thighs when the older woman arches right off the bed with a startled cry of pleasure. She's eager to make love to Regina, to make her feel as desired and loved and wanted as _she_ had felt, and her expression is suitably heartbroken when she feels Regina pushing her away.

"I'm sorry," she sputters, eyes wide, "I didn't mean to—"

But when Regina lifts the covers again, she looks uncharacteristically shy and embarrassed, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded.

"Emma, I've never..."

Green eyes blink slowly. "You... you've never...?"

Regina turns her head away and Emma wants to smack herself. Of course not. Regina had always distanced herself from everyone, both emotionally and physically, and only ever really let Emma slip past her walls. It had always only been Emma.

"Ginny. Look at me."

Reluctant brown eyes skitter back to meet green ones. Emma reaches out both her hands and takes Regina's in hers, gently lacing their fingers together.

"I love you," Emma breathes out, her cheek resting against Regina's thigh, green eyes bright with adoration. "Only you. It's always been you."

"Always?" Regina asks, and now her gaze is dark and piercing, searching hard for the truth. "Did you not love Lily?"

"No," Emma says, and her smile is sure and steady. "I know what love feels like now, and it's always been you."

Regina's gaze softens, eyes turning into a warm liquid brown, and Emma lowers her head once more and shows her just how much she loves her, making love to her until Regina's toes are curling and her breathy moans are filling the room, legs hooked tightly over Emma's shoulders and their linked hands clutching firmly to each other.

"Oh, Emma," Regina cries out as pleasure overtakes her, and her eyes are wet too when she finally sinks boneless into her lover's arms, feeling so very loved and wanted as kisses are pressed to her hair, cheeks, forehead, lips.

"Stay," Regina whispers, her lips against Emma's collarbone, head tucked under the younger woman's chin. Wetness clings to her eyelashes and her hand rests flat on Emma's chest, the scar of her blood oath tingling in time to Emma's heartbeat. _Please don't ever leave me._

"Always," Emma whispers back, arms secure around Regina's waist, their legs entwined and their bodies warmly fitted together like two halves of a whole. _You couldn't get rid of me if you tried._


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Your Highness."

"Good morning, Princess!"

"Hello, Herald Emma."

Emma smiles, waving off every polite greeting with a chipper reply of her own. Summer has come in full force and she's taken to wearing a sleeveless White tunic, the fabric almost form-fitting on her, much to Granny's dismay. (The upside to being royalty is that she has a seamstress, and though most were baffled by her very unusual new clothing designs, Granny was the only one who openly complained about her choice of dress. "Good lord, child, how is anyone to compete when you show off arms like _that?_ ")

The sun is warm on her skin, lightly sun-kissed and sporting old, black scars that look almost like tattoos more than anything, streaking across her arms and disappearing beneath her tunic. Her wild blonde hair is up in a loose ponytail this morning, errant curls falling to her cheeks. Her green eyes sparkle and her smile is infectious as she heads back into the royal palace after having had breakfast in the common room of the Collegium. She has a private breakfast with her parents in the palace on most days, but she enjoys socializing in the common room too, relishing in the sense of family and comradery amongst her fellow Heralds and trainees.

"Emma," Snow calls out when she and David see her approaching from down the hall. They look like they're just about to go out for a leisure ride.

"You're looking cheerful," David notes, smiling warmly at his daughter. Emma bounces on the balls of her feet and grins.

"For good reason," she says coyly.

"And do we get to know what it is?" Snow quirks a brow at her, amused.

"Not yet, but soon. Very soon, I hope."

"Alright," Snow laughs, pecking her on the cheek. "Enjoy your day, sweetheart."

Bidding them a goodbye, Emma slips into her bedroom and retrieves what she needs from her vanity table, humming a cheerful tune to herself as she heads back out. She takes the long route through the Collegium grounds, pausing by the pond to wave at where Jefferson splashes in the water with an entire gaggle of young, mischievous trainees. At the training corral, Ruby and Baelfire work with trainees just starting on short swords, each child working dutifully with a wooden weapon in hand. Baelfire still walks a little lopsidedly, but he's long since ditched the cane, every bit as good as any other Herald.

Hopping up on the fence near where Baelfire is turned away sparring with a trainee, Emma leans towards him and howls out a battle cry. He gives a decidedly girlish shriek and twists around, only for the trainee's attack to smack him across the ass.

"Ow! Bloody—" He drops the wooden sword and rubs at his rear end, scowling at Emma while the trainees burst out in laughter at his expense. Ruby is nearly doubled over, tears in her eyes. "You're an arse, Swan."

"It's Princess Arse to you," she snickers, hopping off the fence. Ruby strides over, grinning.

"What's got you in such a playful mood?"

"It's a good day," Emma says with an innocent shrug.

"Good day? Sunday mornings are a good day. Wednesday mornings letting these little monsters beat on me is a questionable one." He narrows his eyes at her, thinking hard. Then his eyes widen. "Oh. _Oh_. Is today the day?"

"What day?" Ruby asks.

"It's the day. A special day. I hope." Emma beams, already trotting away. "I'll tell you later, Ruby. Wish me luck, Bae!"

They wave her off as she heads for the stables, peering inside for a familiar face. Lily, Mal, and Kathryn are gathered together with their Companions within, chattering together as Kathryn cleans saddles while Lily and Mal brush Drogo and Ember.

"Has anyone seen Regina?" Emma asks as she bounds over, smiling warmly in greeting as the three women look up at her.

"Not since breakfast," Mal offers, reaching over to swat her daughter when she catches Lily staring. "Behave, child of mine."

"Ow! What? Scars are sexy," Lily whines, which only coaxes a full laugh from Emma as the two young women lean against each other, arms slung around waists, grins easy. "Why do you ask, Swan?"

"Don't you remember what today is?" Emma says, wagging an eyebrow at her friend. Lily's eyes widen in surprise while Mal and Kathryn look on, curious.

"Oh. _Oh!_ Already? Havens! Well what are you doing talking to us here? Go find your woman, Emma!"

"Alright, alright," Emma chuckles, hurrying away when Lily slaps at her rear end. Kathryn smiles and shakes her head while Mal pins her daughter with a look.

"What was that about?"

"You'll find out soon from Regina, I'm sure," Lily grins, and says no more.

* * *

"Ginny!"

Regina squints open her eyes, blinking into the morning light. She'd dozed off, and the patch of tree shade she'd been laying under has long since moved away. Emma stands over her, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

"Mm. Hello, darling," Regina murmurs affectionately as Emma flops down next to her. A few feet away, Mercy and Bug lay curled together in a heap, the stallion snoring softly.

"Well that explains why he didn't respond to me, the lazy bugger," Emma says, laughing at the sight. She leans over to kiss Regina sweetly, humming in delight when fingers wind into her hair to hold her firmly in place. When they finally come up for air, Emma is fiddling for something in her pocket, still smiling toothily.

"What has you in such an excitable mood?" Regina asks, quirking a brow at her as she remains comfortably laid out on the grass, her hands folded neatly on her stomach. Emma just grins and finally whips out what she'd been looking for, holding the item just over Regina in plain view.

The silver ring—and the beautiful blue quartz set in it—glitter in the sunlight.

"Marry me."

Regina jackknifes up into a sitting position, almost whacking her forehead against Emma's hand and the ring.

"What in Haven's name are you doing?" she gapes.

"A year ago, you told me I wasn't allowed to propose until a year had passed," Emma explains as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "So here we are. Marry me."

Regina stares at her for the longest time, disbelief in her eyes. Emma stares back with so much love and adoration in her gaze that she cannot help but to give a startled laugh.

"By the gods, Emma."

"Is that a yes?" Emma tries, expression hopeful. Regina just grabs her face and pulls her in for a searing kiss, devouring her passionately until both are ragged and panting for air.

"Of course it's a yes, you idiot," Regina breathes, their lips brushing together. Emma pulls back just enough to slide the ring onto her finger, beaming as it settles perfectly in place.

"That's it, then. You're my Lifebond _and_ my wife. There's no taking it back."

Regina chuckles, deep and husky. "I would never, Em." She tilts her face up, eyes staring deeply into each other, melting in pools of brown and green. "I love you."

"I love you too." And then she tackles Regina, pinning her to the grass and kissing her silly, groaning with pleasure as the brunette flips her over and takes control.

:: _I hope you realize there are trainees around,_ :: Bug tells them both, amusement thick in his voice. The women put a halt to their make-out session with embarrassed little laughs but remain where they are, Emma on her back, Regina laying neatly atop her, arms encircling each other and noses touching.

Next to them, Mercy gives a happy sigh and readjusts herself, her long neck draped elegantly over Bug's side.

:: _About time,_ :: the mare teases, catching sight of the glinting ring on Regina's finger. Regina wrinkles her nose playfully at her Companion with a fake glare.

"Let's have a child."

Emma, once again, has her nearly choking in shock.

" _What?_ We haven't even gotten married yet!"

"But we will," Emma says, "and you've told me how much you are looking forward to having children. You enjoy working with the young trainees so much. Come on, let's start planning it now!"

"I didn't mean— right _now?_ Havens, you really have no patience, my love."

"Can you imagine it?" Emma says dreamily. "An entire clutch of children. I want them to have your eyes and your hair."

"We are starting with _one_ , Emma."

"You and me, Regina. _Mothers._ "

Emma stares up at her, green eyes shining, overflowing with love. Regina feels her own eyes well up because _how_ has she found a best friend, a lover, a _partner_ , in someone who trusts her and adores her so completely? How did she ever deserve such happiness?

:: _It's about time, don't you think?_ :: Mercy says softly, eyes glittering at her from where she lays curled up against Bug. :: _You deserve this. You both do, darling._ ::

Emma nuzzles her face in against Regina's chest with a happy purr and Regina rolls onto her side, taking the blonde with her so that their bodies can fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, their pendants slipping from their necklines and resting on the grass between them. To this day, Regina still wears the swan, and Emma still wears the tree of life.

Regina smiles and presses her lips to blonde hair.

: _Yes we do, don't we?_ :

 **THE END**

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! This fic has a special place in my heart and I hope you enjoyed following Emma and Regina's journey as much as I did. All my love and gratitude to the lovely people who run the SQ Supernova, giving me the inspiration needed to pump out this monster fic in just two months. And as always, special thanks to my readers and followers; you guys are the reason I keep writing, sharing the love of Swan Queen as much as I do.

If you haven't already, please pop over to Twitter and follow me at RealNikiFrost (or Tumblr at Niki-Frost) for future updates, art posts, and SwanQueen-related gifts and giveaways! Stay regal, my darlings!


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